Dead Mans Boots - A Red Dead Story
by CxltOfPersonality
Summary: When young outlaw Sawyer from New Hanover and maverick lawman Vic Noble from New Austin both find themselves on a quest for revenge against Roland Payne, they join forces to rid the land of the fiend that crossed them. In doing so they are forced to face the demons of their pasts in order to form more meaningful futures. [ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. SET IN THE RED DEAD UNIVERSE]
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

**_KAMASSA RIVER, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 3RD 1900_**

Sawyer squinted as the sun beamed on his face. It was a warm day, so warm that he'd carried his bandana in hand rather than around his neck ever since waking up. The red cloth was darkened by the amount of sweat that he'd used it to wipe. Sawyer sported a thick, dark-brown beard around his mouth and cheeks. He'd let it grow hoping it would mask his youthful features, but today it had just made his face boil that much more. Could've been worse though, his beard wasn't as long as Roland's. Sawyer's big, hulking acquaintance had a beard that almost concealed his entire neck. At the same time, Roland Payne was as bald as a newborn. It was almost like the hair on his head had retreated down to his face. Sawyer, in comparison, had just the sides of his head shaved. The two men made for an odd-looking pair as they both rode their horses through the fields towards the river, with the sun scorching every part of them.

Sawyer had rode with Roland ever since he'd found him on the run from U.S Lawmen in West Elizabeth. The big man was 51-years old, making him twenty-seven years Sawyer's senior. When they'd first starting riding together as outlaws, Sawyer hadn't known what Roland had been set down for. He'd told his older fellow outlaw all about his own past. Growing up around the swampy lands of Lemoyne, giving out papers as a boy in Saint Denis, orphaned for as long as he could remember. Sawyer had told Payne everything. But rather than spill any explanations on his imprisonment, Payne had just shown him instead. In their six months together as outlaws, Sawyer had watched as Roland tortured, killed and robbed almost everyone they'd came across. Sometimes in the blink of an eye, without any provocation. It was scary. Sawyer had thought now and again that Roland might possibly turn on him at any given moment. Life was starting to get intense at all times.

"Down there looks good enough." Sawyer pointed.

There was a nice patch of grass a few yards from the river to set up camp. The strands were flattened, clearly another group had camped in that spot once before.

"Yeah..." Roland growled, like he hadn't even listened.

Sawyer had rode with Roland hoping to eventually finance his new life and future in New Austin, far away from where they were. But so far, all they'd managed to rack up were some big bounties in Scarlett Meadows, Annesburg and the entirety of West Elizabeth. It seemed no matter where they went, more people wanted them dead. Through the actions of both, Sawyer would admit, but mostly through Roland. He was just mad at times. Sawyer had seen it every single time. They would get to a place, everything cool, but then something would snap in the older outlaw's head. One wrong thing and everything would turn to shit. He'd draw his Volcanic Pistol and start popping heads without a word. Sawyer had never had any other choice but to defend himself and his unstable partner. And in that process, had more people after his own neck than he'd ever intended.

Roland headed down to the edge of the flowing river to survey the other side. It was Sawyer's own job to pitch the tents and start the campfire. It wasn't hard though, he had it all going within a half hour. The horses were hitched on two different tree stumps. Even their respective horses looked different. Sawyer's horse, Negan, was fast, clean and almost majestic. It was as brown as Sawyer's own hair and never seemed to flinch at any danger. Roland's horse, which didn't have a name, was the complete opposite. It was filthy, sluggish and about as unstable as the man who rode it. If it wasn't for Negan, Sawyer would've probably felt outnumbered.

Finally now, after riding for hours, the sun started to go down. But the young outlaw could tell that they were in for a humid night. And the heat in New Hanover's Heartlands could make anyone irritable, let alone someone like Roland. To keep from feeding the shitty thoughts, Sawyer just started cooking up some Venison over the camp fire in order to feed their bellies instead. Roland was still surveying the area around the camp, gun in hand. No doubt he'd have an appetite after the day of riding cross state. Payne was a tall, tank of a man. An odd mix of muscle and fat. You could tell he'd been through a lot in his days. He had a deep scar under his right-eye to prove it. Sawyer would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of his older comrade. He'd also be telling bullshit if he denied ever thinking of cutting ties, but they seemed to be too far past that now. Or were they? He would sometimes think.

"What can I smell?" Roland's deep voice asked as he approached from the growing darkness.

"Venison, from the Valentine butcher." Sawyer replied, still holding the meat over the fire with his hunting knife.

Roland sat down with a thud across the fire, sending some dust and gravel flying into the air. He removed his beige jacket to make the heat ease up, which reminded Sawyer to do the same. The young outlaw proceeded to remove his black waistcoat and then slightly unbutton his dirty white shirt. They both reeked, having not really washed for weeks. The younger man had wanted a deluxe bath when they were in Valentine, but after seeing Payne snarl at a couple of guys outside the saloon, Sawyer had thought it best they headed on outer town before adding another bounty to the list.

"Here, man." Sawyer called over, holding out the cooked meat.

Roland snatched the hot meat with his bare hand and bit it clean in half. It wasn't a huge piece of Venison, but it wasn't small either. The man was just an animal. More beast than the creature he was eating ever was.

"You're fucking welcome." Sawyer said in under his breath, prepping another piece.

Payne instantly stopping eating and looked up at Sawyer with a look of death.

"What was that?"

Sawyer felt a thin, cold sweat overcome him for a moment. A weird combination of fear and anger. This was getting ridiculous.

"Nothing man. Sorry. Forget it." The young outlaw said, keeping his cool.

Payne, like a feasting wolf, began munching and chewing again.

Sawyer was starving and couldn't wait to eat his own piece. He hadn't eaten all day and this red piece of meat, getting browner as it cooked, dripping with fat, looked about as delicious as the women in Valentine's saloon. He wanted to eat and just think about nothing right now. His mind was exhausted as usual, not just from the journey, but the daily mental battle he fought with the man he rode with. It was Sawyer's job, the young 24-year old kid, to keep Roland in check. Most people would expect it to be the other way round. But it wasn't. Sawyer had to constantly make sure Payne didn't lose his shit, rob any innocents, kill any lawmen or force himself on any women. Life was hard anyways, but for Sawyer it just seemed that much harder.

"So what's next?" Sawyer asked.

"What's that mean?" Payne responded, his mouth full of Venison.

"What do you mean 'what's that mean'? I mean where the fuck do we head next?"

"I don't know, kid. Saint Denis? A lot of money down there for the taking."

"A lot of Marshall's too." Sawyer pointed out.

Payne seemed to scoff, "Ain't a problem."

"Nah? Not a problem? I suppose you're probably getting used to having those badge-boys bird-dogging our asses. I mean you're right man, what the fucks a few more huh?"

"It's always us or them, Sawyer. You know that." Roland said chewing, not even paying the young outlaw any real attention.

"Sure, at times it is. But sometimes it ain't. If you catch my meaning."

Roland swallowed the last of his meat and then wiped the fat and grease from his lips and thick black beard. Sawyer watched as he sat up from the log he was laying against.

"Why you being so fucking annoying tonight, kid? Even more so than usual?"

Sawyer couldn't help but glare, "Having lawmen in two different states wanting to see you swing through almost no action of your own, does tend to irritate one."

"And what's that supposed to mean? You saying this is all down to me? If I remember correctly, boy, a lot of those bullets fired were your own."

Sawyer scowled but did not reply. He just kept cooking the meat. Watching it turn from raw to cooked slowly almost mirrored the feeling Sawyer had in his stomach. His patience was burning and soon it would be turned to ash.

"That's right, boy. It ain't all me." Roland whispered in a harsh tone, "And if you sit down and talk to me like that again... Make sure you got more in your hand than a knife."

Sawyer looked up at the ugly, bald, beastly looking man he once called a friend and tightened the grip on the knife. But before any action could be made, both outlaws heard the snap of a twig branch behind the camp in the darkness.

In a matter of seconds, Sawyer had dropped the knife and meat, drawn his Schofield Revolver and aimed it at the woman. Payne had done the same with his Volcanic. This woman froze where she was, her hands slightly raised. You could see her already shaking, even in the dim light from the fire. Sawyer looked her up and down, she was dressed real nice. A clean blue and white dress. Clearly she wasn't a poor gal, but probably far from rich too. She was about as innocent looking as a puppy. Payne slowly but surely made his way around the campfire, not once taking his dark, sunken in eyes off the frightened woman.

"What you want, madam? Noth'n here for you." Sawyer said, slowly.

"Oh I think there is." Payne sinisterly smirked.

"Hey..." Sawyer turned his head to Roland, "Don't, man."

The woman was about to speak when she was suddenly joined at the hip by a real small, gentle looking boy. Can't have been any older than five years. Sawyer himself started shaking. It was a mother and her child. And they'd ran into the wrong person.

"Please... We were just hoping to find a crossing. We're on our way to Van Horn, see." She admitted, her voice cracking with every word.

The little boy started pointing at Sawyer, "Mommy, that man has a bang-bang."

_Oh fuck_, Sawyer whimpered inside his own head.

"On your way to Van Horn Trading Post huh?" Payne laughed, approaching her closer, "What is it you got to trade then, Miss?"

The mother's eyes were wide and watery, you could even see the campfire reflecting off of them.

"Or is it Mrs? After all you do have a little cub with you. Where's your fella?"

She didn't answer. All she did was slowly push the boy further behind her with one hand. Sawyer kept his gun on her, as did Roland. But only one of the outlaws wanted to put them away.

"Now I asked you a fucking question, lady!" Payne yelled ferociously out of nowhere, grabbing her by the lower jaw.

Sawyer's heart was going as fast as a running buck. It felt like it was forcing its way out of his throat. The young outlaw couldn't bare hearing the mother start to scream and cry and her little boy do the same.

"What you got to trade at Van Horn, huh?!" Roland roared, still no response. "Now you hand whatever you got over, or me and my partner there are gonna be serving you and your little boy up at the nearest Trapper!"

Payne had snapped again, so angry that his face was red and hot. But suddenly there was a chilly sensation to his temple, and he heard the click of a revolver's hammer.

"Let her fucking go. Now..." Sawyer ordered the much bigger man, sternly.

Roland's eyes went as wide as Flat Iron Lake, his own jaw now dropping. Even the mother looked on in disbelief at what the young outlaw was doing. Every noise from every person went silent. All that could be heard was the wind through the grass and the flowing river a few yards away.

Roland turned his head slowly to look at Sawyer, the barrel now facing his forehead. He finally let go of the woman's face. He'd gripped her so tight that he'd left bruises already. She very quickly backed away and made sure her son was okay.

"What the fuck do you reckon you're doing, boy?" Payne asked, seething like an angry wolf.

"The right thing, you piece of shit." Sawyer responded, jaded, angry and tired beyond belief.

"Oh yeah? Go ahead then. Shoot me" Payne growled, smirking ever so slightly.

Sawyer stared at Roland, both men's eyes finally accepting the toxic dislike for one another. The giant unit of a man had just gave the younger outlaw permission to kill him. And because of that, Sawyer didn't do it. The young man knew how sly Payne could be.

"Go on, boy. Do it. Pull the fucking trigger. Do the right thing." Roland said amongst heavy furious breathing.

Sawyer kept his eyes fixed on Payne, for the longest time. He waited for the beast to make a move, but he seemed to become as still as a stuffed bear.

"Now you pull that trigger, kid. 'Cause if you don't... That woman, that boy, I'm gonna tear them apart and make you watch."

That promise and that thought made Sawyer glance at the two innocents for a brief moment, and that was all Payne needed. Before a fly could even move, Payne clasped his hand around Sawyer's revolver, jamming his thumb between the hammer and the bullet. When Sawyer jolted and tried to shoot, the bullet then went nowhere. Instead the two men just scuffled for a brief moment before Payne managed to yank the Schofield out of Sawyer's hand and whip him across the cheekbone, opening up a wound and letting the young man's blood flow down his face.

Sawyer collapsed straight to the ground, his vision and head a complete haze. His eyes rolled and rolled, seeing nothing but colours and shapes. The young outlaw tried to push himself up, but that's when he felt Roland's boots crack open his ribs with a few hard kicks. Sawyer groaned, screamed even, as the pain coursed through his entire abdomen. He could taste his own blood from the crack on his cheek and even some mud and dirt from the ground he had kissed.

Amongst his own cries and screams of agony, Sawyer heard both the mother and her child crying out for help and yelling loud in fear. The young outlaw tried to move, tried to find a gun, knife, rock, anything that could help put down the beast and save the two innocents, but it was all futile. The pain from his ribs made it hard to even breathe and the blow to the head made it impossible to see. Sawyer had no chance of helping anyone. He could already feel his own consciousness slipping away, kept awake only by the sounds of the mother and her little boy's cries of terror.

After a minute or two, bleeding heavily and feeling like his chest and stomach were on fire, Sawyer heard two gunshots. Two loud and evil gunshots, from the familiar Volcanic pistol that he'd heard many times. And that was when he stopped hearing the screams and could drift off into nothing.


	2. Chapter I

**CHAPTER I**

**_ARMADILLO, NEW AUSTIN, MAY 30TH_****_ 1900_**

The whole place was like a ghost town. Hardly a soul in sight. Armadillo was an isolated little place out in the wide boiling expanse of New Austin. It boasted many small buildings including a General Store, U.S Marshalls office, Saloon and even a Train Station. All were hardly used, if at all. Armadillo was still a community-to-be. At this point, the only people who inhabited it were passers-by, coming through on their journeys elsewhere, usually to stop by at the Saloon for a drink and some food before continuing on. It was quiet, with sand and dirt blowing through the air down the whole main street between the lines of buildings, with even a tumbleweed making its bumpy way down at one point.

This is how Vic Noble expected and ultimately found Armadillo as he trotted into town on the back of his pearl-white horse, April. She was a good old girl, fast and fearless. April was Vic's escape plan if he ever needed to quickly make tracks.

Vic was a U.S Lawman and had been since he'd become 18-years old. Now, seventeen years into the job, he was still as good at it now as he was then, if not more so. Albeit with his own personal methods. He was a sight to behold as he arrived in Armadillo after venturing for a day all the way from his home community of Tumbleweed out further west.

Vic sported long black hair which was pomaded back, with a thick moustache and an equally as thick bulk of hair just under his lower lip. He never wore a hat, even if the weather was scorching, like it was that morning. His style was that of a dark blue shirt underneath a black velvet waistcoat, proudly showing his pointy U.S Marshall badge over his heart. The metal piece was silver and hot to the touch thanks to the sun. Vic would definitely not need to flash it to anyone as its gleam could be seen for a mile.

The job that morning for Noble was to find and arrest a man who had tried to kidnap a small child who lived in Tumbleweed. He'd came through and tried to lasso her up a few days back, but was chased off by the angry locals. Fortunately he was a known villain and was sighted heading to Armadillo the day before. Now Vic Noble was the man sent to find him. Very unfortunate for the raider, indeed.

Vic hitched his horse outside of the Train Station and took a glance around the area. Nobody was there. He could only hear the small sound of a piano playing inside the saloon which stood on the corner of the street just opposite the station. Thankfully no innocents were around for when this got ugly, which Vic knew it would. The U.S lawman calmly made his way towards the saloon and the shade just outside it's shutters, one palm gently resting on the butt of one of his LeMat Revolvers. Vic always had two of them, both shiny silver engraved with carvings of art. He trusted them more than most people.

Vic sniffed and could smell the booze and crappy food from outside the shutters as he peaked in before actually entering. Just as he did, the barman stopped laughing, as did the two sole customers at one of the circular tables and even the old bearded man on the piano stopped playing. They were wide eyed at the sight of the U.S lawman, surely the first of that kind they'd seen in Armadillo for quite some time.

"Morning, boys." Vic smiled with no sincerity.

Not one of the four men responded. They just awkwardly looked at one another, wondering what the fuck they were going to do.

"Say, one of you fella's a guy named Hal Tanner?" Noble asked, fully knowing which one he was looking for.

Hal Tanner himself was one of the two men drinking. He sat there frozen. Tanner was a horrible looking man, skinny, balding, about three teeth to his mouth and a pale left eye. You could not mistake who he was, Vic was just enjoying himself at this point.

"No one here by that name, mister. Maybe you ought to just get, huh?" Said the Barman, polishing one of his hardly used glasses.

"Nobody here by that name, huh?" Vic asked, thumbs hooked to his belt, slowly walking further in, "It's funny you say that, 'cause recently a man came through Tumbleweed. A man with a... dingy left eye."

Tanner sipped at his beer with his head down, his nose almost drinking too.

"So thin that if he turned sideways you'd miss him... With the only teeth left in his mouth being the ones nobody could knock out."

Everyone was still quiet, not daring to make a move as Vic slowly and calmly pulled one of the wooden chairs of the table out and sat down just next to Tanner, staring at him with a wide eyed smirk. The old man at the piano looked at the barman who gave him back a face of bewilderment. Eventually the old fella called it quits, stood up from his seat and awkwardly jogged to the shutters and out of the saloon fast. Vic made sure to wait patiently before continuing on.

"Had a... taste for young ones, so I hear." Vic's voice then lowered.

Tanner turned his bald head and ugly face up to Noble, looking at him with his one able eye.

"Morning, Tanner. How goes it?" Vic smiled. No sincerity.

"You come from Tumbleweed?" Tanner asked, his high raspy voice nothing but an irritation to ears.

"That's right. And that little girl you tried to tie up... I know her. I know her folks."

Tanner just swallowed very hard and tried to clear his throat.

"She's around six years old, Tanner. I guess you knew that... And I'm willing to guess you weren't gonna drag her off to go fishing, am I right?"

Tanner did not reply. He couldn't. The words had dropped right out of his scrawny ass. At this point the bartender realised trouble was imminent, which he didn't want.

"A'ight, I want you out of here! Whatever accusations you making against my customers, you can come back and do it later, but you do it _outside _of my saloon!" The barman shouted, his finger jabbing at Vic.

"You'd be harbouring a fugitive, Mr. Bartender! Which would make you next on my list!" Vic shouted out.

The lawman then heard the hammer of a gun being clicked back. Tanner's fellow thug on the other side of the table had pulled out a Cattleman Revolver and aimed it at Vic.

"Then you can add me to your list, sir." The other scrawny man smirked, his brown set of teeth on show.

Vic chuckled at him, "You holster that little kiddies toy right now, boy."

The thug growled, "I don't think I will... So I'm gonna count to three."

Sharply, in the blink of Tanner's right eye, Vic had his left LeMat equipped, cocked and aimed right at the thug's head.

"No, _I'm_ gonna count to three." Vic snarled, the smirk now gone.

Tanner's one working eye darted between Vic and his buddy. The raiding criminal didn't want to move in case he got shot on his way out. Instead he sat, shaking, hoping his friend would be faster with the trigger than the lawman and he'd still be a free man.

"One..." The thug sneered.

"Two!" Vic shouted, continuing it for him.

The man behind the bar then dropped the glass, cowered and blocked his ears waiting for the gunshots. Just as the glass hit the floor, it shattered loudly, taking the attention of both Tanner and his pal.

Vic then pulled the trigger in his left hand and blew a hole through the thug's forehead, sending the corpse and it's pieces of skull, meat and blood down onto the dark wooden deck.

Tanner jumped out of his seat in shock and instinctively drew his own Cattleman Revolver, aiming it straight at Vic's face. Unfortunately for the child-kidnapper however, Vic had long already drawn his second LeMat with his right hand and shot a grave hole right into Tanner's neck. Blood began spitting and pouring at the same time from the dark red fleshy hole as Tanner dropped the revolver and tried to stop the flow with his hands.

Vic sat and stared at the raider as he stumbled around, fell, got back up, fell again, tried to keep going, waddling towards the saloon shutters. Tanner's hands and baggy clothes were drenched in his own blood fast. He finally lost his strength just as he reached the shutters and fell straight through them, landing flat on the entrance deck, as dead as they come.

_Job done_, Vic thought.

"Oh shit... Oh fucking hell..." The bartender whimpered to himself, looking at the blood trail all over his floor.

Vic holstered both of his LeMat's, stood up from the table and brushed himself down. He'd come to Armadillo on the order to bring Hal Tanner to justice, and as far as Noble was concerned, he'd done just that. Now that he was done, he just had to head back to Tumbleweed with Tanner's body as proof.

"Sorry about the mess, fella." Vic muttered, laying $15 dollars down on the bar.

The bartender was still in shock and awe, sweating and shaking as Vic left the bar and was yet again engulfed by the powerful sun above.

Vic remained cool despite the heat, picked up Tanner's drenched corpse out of the huge puddle of blood and hoisted him over his shoulder. His lasso was still on April's saddle, which he would use to keep the body in place for the journey back. April never cared about what Vic would stow on top of her, whether it be the corpses of humans, animals or even live captives tied up and trying to escape. She would never bolt.

"Good girl." Vic smiled and patted the white beauty on her neck and fed her an Oatcake.

With Tanner's body harnessed in, Vic climbed back onto April and took a cigarette out of his pocket along with his box of matches. He lit his first smoke of the day, almost as a celebration for another successful job and took a long drag. It felt damn good.

"Alright, let's go girl." Vic told April, kicking his leg and getting the horse to start moving.

Feeling the wind hit him as the horse ran cooled his face and body right down. It was a glorious feeling. Noble was pleased the job had been done, although he was sure Sheriff Freeman back in Tumbleweed wouldn't be very pleased with the means. But that didn't matter to Vic. The lawman had simply rid the world of another piece of rotten filth. He just wondered which he would need to hunt down next.


	3. Chapter II

**CHAPTER II**

_**EMERALD RANCH, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900**_

_Argh!_ Sawyer sat up. He felt like his head had been cracked open and his ribs shattered. It was hard to focus his vision or make a move without a seething pain shooting through his temple and body. The young outlaw gasped and coughed as he sat up on the bed, breathing in dust and grime from the warm, darkly lit wooden room he found himself in.

Looking around with just his eyes, head resting on the pillow, he tried to avoid vomiting from the nausea inducing aches that plagued his upper self. He was in a small bed in the corner of a cabin-like room that creaked. Across from him was a table full of bandages, healing tonics, a mirror and small shiny tools. Seeing that, Sawyer looked down and saw that a thick white cloth bandage was wrapped around his stomach and back.

Outside, across the one small window in the room, he could hear voices and the distant rumble of horse-shoes galloping across the dirt.

After calming himself down, taking some minutes to slow himself, Sawyer managed to sit up out of the quilt on the edge of the mattress. His face hurt badly, not just his head. It felt like a piece of it had been torn away by a bear. Thankfully it was just a big red bruise when Sawyer reached and picked up the mirror.

His beard had grown bigger, he was in nothing but his underwear, yet he seemed cleaner than when he last caught a glimpse of himself. Questions started to fill the young outlaws head. How did he get here? Why was he still alive? What happened to the mother and child? Were amongst a few others.

He kept groaning and coughing. Even breathing had been made difficult. But Sawyer could fully understand all the injuries and pain. What he couldn't understand, was how he was still breathing at all. Roland Payne never left anyone alive, so why him?

Before those thoughts could be fed, Sawyer heard approaching footsteps coming closer to the room's door. Slowly but trying to be quick, Sawyer instinctively searched his close space for any weapon, but ended up picking up one of the small knives from the table next to his bed. It was small, shiny, but very sharp. The young outlaw brandished it in front of himself as the door opened.

It was an older gentleman in a blood stained white shirt, sporting little hair but a big grey moustache. He was carrying a leather flask as Sawyer began waving the knife.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Sawyer yelled, the pain obvious in his voice, "Where the hell am I?!"

The gentleman backed against the door, both hands out, "It's alright, son! You're okay!"

"You better stay the fuck away from me, man!" Sawyer shouted, struggling to keep himself up.

Sawyer held the knife in his right hand, but was forced to hold his ribs with the left. It was stuck there like glue.

"I'm a friend! I'm your friend! Just stay calm!" The old man said, slowly and gently moving his hands up and down to try and calm Sawyer.

Sawyer blinked quickly and hard, panting and growling. Still pointing the knife, he looked the man up and down. It didn't take long for him to realise the older man was a doctor. The young outlaw then felt all the paranoia, shock and anger leave him, along with most of his energy.

"Oh..." Sawyer whispered through another long and tired breath, "I'm sorry."

His grip released, dropping the knife to the floor before he collapsed backwards onto the bed. The old doctor quickly moved to try and catch his patient, to no avail.

"No harm done, son. Just take it easy there." Said the doctor, gently moving Sawyer into a comfortable position.

The doctor checked Sawyer's bandage, "You've been out for a few days now. Found you up by Kamassa River when my boy and I were out fishing."

Sawyer watched, still exhausted, as the doctor then calmly took his head and closely inspected the swollen bruises on his face. The Doctor spoke calmly with the voice of a heavy smoker. Not only was he there to help Sawyer physically, but he seemed to help him mentally thanks to his hypnotic voice.

"What's the damage?" Sawyer asked with a strained voice.

"Cracked ribs almost definitely and I'm assuming a headache from Mother Nature, on account of the face wound?" Asked the old medical man.

Sawyer slowly nodded, "Oh yeah."

The doctor then smirked, you could tell by the way his moustache became slightly slanted.

"What's in the flask?" Sawyer whispered.

Opening the top of the small leather bottle, the doctor held it out, "Water. Gotta keep you hydrated, son."

Sawyer's heart skipped a beat, he didn't even realise until that moment how thirsty he was. The young outlaw quickly took the bottle and started gulping down the cold fluid. It was glorious and seemed to almost cool and calm the pains throughout his body. When he'd finished drinking, he took a couple of big gasps for air.

"Keep hydrated, but try not to drown yourself." The old man chuckled, taking the bottle away.

Sawyer finally felt comfortable enough to ask the questions that had flew around his skull since he awoke. He lay content on the bed, feeling the pains and soreness slightly subside and watched as the doctor stood up from the bed and pick up the knife.

"You found me out there, Doc?" Sawyer asked, looking up at the old fella.

"Yeah that was me and my son. Saw you near the shore at the crack of dawn. Must've been raided at your camp 'cause we saw the campfire was out and you'd been ransacked." The doctor revealed, organising his medical tools.

That told Sawyer something he'd forgotten all about. All of his belongings were gone. His guns, ammo, rations and probably even his cash. Roland had obviously taken it all.

"You brought my clothes back, right?" Sawyer then wondered.

"We did. Thankfully those weren't taken from ya too. Probably wouldn't have brought you back had we found you in your birthday suit." The doctor laughed smirked again.

Sawyer laughed a little along with his saviour, his ribs aching as he did. All the younger man could think about was the bastard who had left him in such an injured state. Roland Payne. Then it finally hit the young outlaw.

"What about the woman? And her little boy?" Sawyer turned and asked, frantically.

Even the old doctor stopped what he was doing. He let out one long sigh that sounded more like a growl than any sort of breath. Sawyer kept watching him as the medical man pulled a small stool out from the corner of the room and sat down in front of the bed. With his old, wrinkled hands that showed almost every vein, the doctor pulled out a cigarette packet and lodged one between his lips. Before lighting, he offered one to Sawyer. The young outlaw shook his head. All he wanted was an answer.

"We found them too." The doctor said, lighting the match and then his cigarette, "They weren't as lucky as you, son."

"Oh fuck…" Sawyer whispered in regret. In his mind, he had failed. "What happened to them?"

The doctor took another puff, "The woman was shot in the back and the head. Probably in that order too."

"And the boy?" Asked the outlaw, his voice cracking slightly.

"Shot once. In the stomach." The doctor revealed grimly before taking a very long drag.

That made Sawyer feel sicker than he had felt already. Not only because he felt he had failed the mother and child, but also due to the fact that Roland not only killed the little boy, but made him suffer more than even the mother. The sick and evil outlaw had given her a quick death, but he'd let the child suffer in pain. Sawyer felt sick, but that sickness slowly and surely turned into rage.

After finishing his cigarette, the doctor went down from the stool onto his knees and reached under the bed Sawyer was laying on. The young outlaw was sweating and shaking slightly in anger but was distracted when the doctor brought out his clothes and boots from underneath.

"A bit dusty, son. They been under there for four days," The doctor said calmly, handing Sawyer the overalls, "But everything's there that we found you in."

"Is this everything I had? Was there a gun? A knife? Money? Anything else at all?" Sawyer asked quietly.

"That's everything, sorry to say." Replied the older doctor.

Sawyer sighed again but accepted his predicament. His former partner, outlaw and a man who at one point he thought was a friend, had now beaten him severely and robbed him of all his belongings before brutalising two innocent people. Anger, fury, rage were words not even close to what the young outlaw felt. As he sat with gritted teeth, quietly shaking on the doctor's bed in Emerald Ranch, Sawyer's one goal in the world slowly formed. He wanted revenge.

"What's your name?" Sawyer asked as the doctor approached the door again.

"Doctor Ted Crowley, son. It's good to meet you. Shame about the circumstances." The old man replied, nodding with respect.

Sawyer nodded back, "I'm Sawyer, for what it's worth. Thank you."

"Just doing my job, Sawyer. No thanks needed."

Sawyer sat back up, clothes in hand. He was going to attempt to get dressed and finally get back on his feet. He had work to do.

"Oh actually, there was one other thing." Doc Crowley said suddenly after opening the door.

The injured outlaw stopped and looked back up to the man that had found him. Crowley then reached into his top pocket and pulled out something small and shiny.

"This was left in your mouth when we got to you." The doctor threw the small item over to the injured outlaw, "You spat it out when we were picking you up."

Sawyer caught the object and very quickly realised that it was a bullet. A revolver round specifically. The same ones that Sawyer fired from the Schofield that Roland had clobbered him with. It was at that point that Sawyer finally realised. It even made him smirk a little bit. Roland had left him alive with a bullet in his mouth, the same kind he had killed the mother and child with, as a last and final insult to the younger outlaw. Almost as if Payne wanted Sawyer to live in humiliation and regret. And maybe even as a message that Sawyer wasn't even worth a bullet being fired.

"Not sure why. Seems pretty bizarre." Crowley muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, sure does. Thanks again, Doc." Sawyer replied, smirking and still staring at the small shiny piece of copper.

"Again, no thanks needed. Just come out when you're ready and we'll get you on your way properly, son. Just don't rush yourself."

Sawyer looked up at Crowley and made a small weak salute with his right hand before watching the old fella finally leave the room.

Sawyer then finally managed to pick himself up off of the bed, albeit moaning and groaning again from the soreness of his ribs. It took the outlaw a few minutes to get his clothes back on, having to move slowly. Once they were on Sawyer took a moment leaning against the window to catch his breathe. Emerald Ranch was a peaceful looking place. He could see small cabins and a barnyard full of sheep outside. He didn't belong in such a friendly settlement. Sawyer knew full well that if Crowley or any other citizen of town knew he ran with Roland Payne once, they would have left him right where they found him. After a few minutes of silence and reflecting, the young outlaw pulled the bullet back out and continued to inspect the small shiny piece of copper that Payne had left with him.

Sawyer both scowled and smiled, "I'm coming for you, Payne."


	4. Chapter III

**CHAPTER III**

**_TUMBLEWEED, NEW AUSTIN, JUNE 2ND 1900_**

Vic sat comfortably, his legs and boots propped upon his boss, Sheriff Freeman's desk. The U.S Lawman had been aware of this coming meeting since he returned from Armadillo with Tanner's lifeless corpse on the back of April. As far as Vic was concerned, the job was done. But this wasn't the first time he'd came back to Tumbleweed with the fugitive's body rather than a live capture, and Freeman's patience was starting to get tested.

Tumbleweed was a small community far out west in New Austin in the region of Gaptooth Ridge. It was a thriving little town, with everything a settlement needed. Saloon, General Store, Gunsmith, a Butcher and a stable. It's most iconic landmark was probably the mansion up on the hill that seemed to watch of the town. Tumbleweed even had a large graveyard nearby which some said was haunted. A couple of older settlers had told stories of whispers and voices coming from among tombstones at night. These tails were often ignored, especially by the Sheriff and his men. They had bigger things than ghosts to worry about.

Vic had lived there most of his life and was very protective of his home and the people that lived there. That was the philosophy he took when it came to hunting down criminals and was usually how he justified taking the killing route. The Lawman didn't have any living family, but had many close friends in town and would do anything to protect them.

After waiting in the Sheriff's humid office for almost ten minutes, Vic decided to light up a smoke. He took the pack of cigarettes and matches out of his waistcoat pocket and was about to strike the match when Freeman finally stormed into his own office.

"Not in here, Noble!" Freeman said sternly, his voice raised.

Sheriff Freeman was a black, middle aged man who'd been doing his job for longer than anyone else in town. Thanks to that, he'd earned everyone's respect. Vic always admired him to a certain extent, because in those parts of the world, a black Sheriff was a big rarity and took some balls to be.

"And get your fucking boots off of my desk, now!" The sheriff ordered, pointing at Vic's dusty shoes.

Freeman's voice was a majestic one. Although he would talk, he always sounded like he was slightly singing. Just the way the man formed words, Vic would know his voice anywhere.

Vic did exactly as he was told. He was in hot water right now and didn't wanna scald himself any more than he already had.

"Now I'd like a full report on what happened in Armadillo with Tanner." Told the Sheriff, slamming his palm slightly on his desk.

"I've already said, sir. I found him in the saloon, gave him the chance to come quietly, but _they_ drew their guns first." Vic replied, only slightly bending the truth.

"_Their guns_ first?" Asked Freeman.

"Oh yeah, he was with a friend. Didn't catch his name."

"I'm guessing he didn't survive the encounter neither?"

"Nah he didn't. In fact I had to take him down first. I'll give the fella his due, he was damn loyal to Tanner. Might've been queers the two of 'em." Vic replied with a slight laugh.

Freeman just stared back at Vic, not shifting a muscle and not blinking once.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes right now, Noble. This is the..." Freeman stopped and then quickly skimmed through the pile of papers on his desk, "...Ninth criminal that we've wanted brought back alive that you've just shot down instead."

"We're hunting thieves, bandits and general assholes, Sheriff. They do have the tendency to resist arrest."

"What even Old Jim Lavette? Elderly guy wanted for petty theft?" Freeman then asked, wincing.

Vic's mouth bent and he slightly shrugged his shoulders. Freeman had got him with that one. Lavette never made it far out of town with Ellie's pocket watch, but Vic shot the old man down anyways because he would never see his young friend be crossed.

"Alright then I guess I'm just ridding this land of pesky vermin, sir. Ain't that our job, to a fucking degree?" Vic returned a question, glaring at his superior.

"Absolutely, but we're supposed to uphold the law! We're keeper's of peace, Vic. We're not fucking murderers." Freeman replied loudly, that good old majestic voice that Vic loved.

"Eye for an eye, sir. I don't think I've got anything to explain or apologise for." Bluntly stated the lawman, shaking his head.

"I'd suggest altering that tune, Vic. You've given me no damn choice but to rethink your job here. I'm starting to think you might like the feeling of the trigger a little too much." Freeman said, his voice low and almost regretful.

That hit Vic hard. In his mind, what he did was justified. Criminals going around and terrorising innocents deserve to be six feet under, not locked in a cage and being brought food and water. Most of them were gonna fucking swing anyways, so he was a little shocked to hear what Freeman was saying.

"So... You're fucking firing me, sir?" Vic questioned, his face stunned.

"No. But I'm gonna ask you to hand over your gun and badge while I make a decision here. Consider it an indefinite suspension." Freeman replied sternly, his hand out.

Vic sat still, the sun burning his back as it's beams came in through the door. He was sweating already, but now a colder sweat was being added to the layer. The Lawman thought for a moment, maybe even hesitated. Then the respect Vic knew he had for his superior kicked in. Freeman was a good man and Vic wasn't gonna disrespect him in any way, so he complied with orders. Smoothly and quickly, Vic placed both LeMat revolvers on the desk and then unpinned the star-shaped badge from his waistcoat and dropped it into Freeman's hand.

"Thank you, Vic. This shouldn't take more than a day or two. I'm sorry to do this, but I think you've gone a little too far, pal." Freeman explained, his eyes closed most of the time.

Vic sat quietly, wiping the moist and sweat from his black goatee and moustache. The maverick lawman was about to respond to the Sheriff when suddenly another man quickly rushed into the office.

"Sheriff!" The man shouted out.

Both Vic and Freeman turned and looked at Barnes, a younger and less experienced Lawman. Vic could see he was sweating, covered in sand and dirt from the knees down and standing slumped, panting heavily, out of breath.

"Calm yourself, Barnes! What is it?" Freeman disciplined his subordinate before standing up from his desk.

"Apologies, sir. Bad news, we've got two-"

"I'll stop you there, Barnes." Sheriff Freeman interrupted the young lawman.

Freeman then turned to Vic, "Would you mind, Vic?"

"You want me to leave? I wanna know what's going on, Sheriff." Vic said, sternly even against his boss.

"I know you do, son. But you're on indefinite leave now. This is business of the law. I'm sorry, but you have to leave the office now. I'll be out to see you in a few days, hopefully." Freeman told Vic, with a hint of regret once again.

Vic might've respected Freeman, but even he thought that was ridiculous. He knew pleading further would be futile, so instead Vic just shook his head, stood up, gave two nods to each man and then left the premises of the Sheriff's Office.

About an hour after Vic's reprimand and suspension, he found himself sitting outside on the wooden steps of the saloon in town. It was still early in the morning, so he'd been the bar's only customer. The suspended lawman sat alone, smoke in one hand and bottle of beer in the other, watching the townsfolk go about their daily routines. After being stripped of his badge and guns, Vic wanted to just drink and ponder what might happen. He sat thinking to himself, what would happen if he did get fired? Where would he go? What would he do? But at the same time, he thought about how he might change up his tactics if he was given his badge and guns back. That was the outcome he'd hoped for, but for now he had to wait a few days. A few days that he knew were gonna feel too damn long.

Vic drank the last of the beer in the bottle and found no answers at the bottom, so he decided to go buy another, but found himself stopped again when he felt something fly past his left ear. It was going so fast that it felt like the air itself smashed against his head. Vic didn't even flinch, but when he turned he saw an arrow planted right into the wooden wall of the saloon. It had missed his head by maybe a foot. Knowing right away who fired it, he yanked the arrow out of the hole.

"Sorry, I missed ya!" Shouted the approaching girl.

"I'd hope so." Vic replied, sarcastically.

It was Ellie Kennedy, Vic's sort of surrogate niece. She was a fiery young woman, 16-years old. Tougher and wilder than most wolves out in the plains. Vic had known her since she was a toddler, back when he was good friends with her late father. Ellie had grown up in Tumbleweed, but never seen much else of the world. Probably a reason she had such big ambitions of exploring and treasure hunting.

"Well you looked like a misery sitting right there. Thought I'd try and put you out of it." Ellie smirked and laughed.

Vic chuckled, "Show off your bow skills, you mean?"

"Maybe. They're coming on good though, right?"

"Yeah they sure are." Vic smiled, handing her back the arrow before turning back to the saloon.

Vic strolled back into the cooler shade of the empty saloon and pointed at the beer bottles, telling the barman what he wanted without even speaking a word. The maverick lawman heard the shutters open again behind him. Ellie was following, like she often did.

"One for me?" Ellie asked.

The youngster strolled up to the bar. She was petite for her age, long brown hair, freckly face. Pale skin that was slightly red from the sun. Wearing her usual tomboyish jeans and shirt, she'd put the bow over her back, thankfully.

"Nope." Vic smiled sarcastically again, taking a drink.

"Ah come on, after that shot? Don't I deserve a little something?"

"Well yeah, I guess so... Barman!" Vic turned to the man behind the counter, "Miss Kennedy would like a water, please."

"Fuck you, Vic. I'm sixteen!" Ellie frowned. For a tough 16-year old, there was still some childish tendencies there.

"And that ain't the drinking age, Ellie. Anyways don't start with me now. Really not in the mood." Vic told her, like the uncle he pretty much was.

"Ooh sorry! What sticks up your ass? And who put it there?" Ellie asked, waving her arms around, trying to annoy, and succeeding.

Vic would tell Ellie anything. She might've been more than half his age, but they always seemed to confide in one another. Ellie was the closest friend in town that Vic had and the closest thing he had to family. Once her Dad had died when she was only 8-years old, he'd swore an oath to himself to look out for her.

"Sheriff Freeman put it there. I've been suspended from my job." Vic admitted.

Ellie scowled, she didn't expect that, "What the fuck for?"

"I killed another man. You remember that piece of shit that tried to kidnap little Darcie?"

Ellie nodded. The sick bastard had even looked her up and down at the time.

"Yeah well, he's not with us anymore. Thank god, right? But since I've killed every cocksucker I've hunted down, Freeman thinks I've become a little... Crazy?" Vic told Ellie slowly, with an even stronger wave of sarcasm.

Ellie then watched as the barman put down a jug of water for her. She winced and shook her head. The idiot had actually thought Vic was serious. Now she felt almost bad for firing an arrow near her would-be uncle and then trying irritate him.

"Not the way I see it, for what it's worth." Ellie said, trying to make him feel better.

"It's not the way _I_ fucking see it. But now I gotta wait a few days to find out whether I'm back on the job or off it forever."

"You're the best fucker there and the Sheriff knows that. He's gotta do what he knows is right." Ellie said, naively.

Vic just smiled, Ellie could always make him do that.

"We can hope huh?" Vic asked, raising his bottle of beer to her.

Ellie reluctantly picked up the jug of water, "We can hope."

The pair then connected jug and bottle, toasting Vic's hopeful reinstatement. Just as they did, the saloon doors creaked open yet again. Both the lawman and the young woman turned and saw the young lawman. It was young Barnes again.

"Vic." The young man of the law bluntly stated.

"Nothing I can do, Barnes. Suspended, remember?" Vic replied, turning back to the bar and taking a drink.

"No it's not that. Sheriff Freeman wants to see you." Barnes then revealed.

Vic's face then twisted up, "Already?"

"It's serious. No word is supposed to leave his office, so you should go see him. He needs you." Barnes said quietly across the empty tables and chairs.

Vic sighed, thinking it was all getting pretty fucking stupid. He finished his beer and turned from the bar. Ellie was quiet and just watched. Vic gave her a smirk and roughed her hair up with his hand before heading back out into the sun with his colleague.

Not even ten minutes after leaving the saloon, Vic found himself planted back in the same seat he had already been in most of that morning. However this time, Freeman wasn't sitting across from him. Instead he was standing at his office window, looking out at the town. Glass of whiskey in one hand.

"That was fast, sir. I was only into my second bottle." Vic muttered. Sarcasm rife again.

"It's not about that, Vic. It's something else. The news Barnes brought back earlier." Freeman revealed, turning to his suspended maverick enforcer.

"So you're finally gonna tell me what it was about? Suspended or not?" Asked Noble.

"You remember I sent Robson and Quinn on a little recruitment drive? Out east to New Hanover, couple of weeks back?"

"Yup. I remember." Vic replied.

Robson and Quinn were the only other Lawman of Tumbleweed. The two of them, Vic, Barnes and Freeman were the only law that town had. Which is why Freeman had sent them on such a far away job just to see if anyone wanted the work. They were good friends of Vic's, he'd wished they were here now to maybe give him some defence.

"They're dead." Freeman dropped the penny as he sat down.

Vic's eyes widened and his mouth gaped. His little wish was put down rather quickly. His friends and fellow lawmen were gone.

"Fucking dead? Well... Do we know how?" Vic asked in a slight panic.

"They were gunned down in Strawberry by two known outlaws. A few Marshall's from New Hanover managed to get the message to Barnes." The Sheriff told his best man.

"Is it the two outlaws we hear a lot about? The old motherfucker and some kid?" Vic asked.

"Yeah. It's 'Roland Payne' and his little pal, we didn't get his name. Rumour has it he doesn't have one." Replied Freeman, taking a sip of the golden drink.

"What the fuck happened?"

"They were still on the job trying to recruit some people. They got to Strawberry and apparently these two men ploughed through town, killed quite a few people." Freeman said, his voice low. "Robson and Quinn tried to help, reports say. Both got shot in the back and the head."

Vic couldn't reply, he didn't have the words. The two outlaws in New Hanover were news even this far west in New Austin. They'd robbed and killed so many times that news of them had spread like the plague. Vic was not a happy man. He was already a little angry from being suspended, but now it had turned into something a little more powerful.

"So they're gone, huh? And what of the two scumbags?" Vic asked, his teeth on show like an angry wolf.

"Still on the run. Haven't been seen in West Elizabeth since. Reports claim they headed further east into The Heartlands." Freeman said quietly, looking out the door into the sun scorched street.

"So I guess the only thing I have left to wonder, Sheriff... Is why you called me back here?" Vic asked, his tone shifting lower.

"'Cause you might be going out there and enforcing the law in a less than ideal way... But I'll admit, you're the best we have. Especially now. I had to perform my due diligence as a Sheriff, you understand. But now I'm left with just you and Barnes. And he ain't nearly experienced enough." Freeman said, not making eye contact.

"That doesn't answer my question, sir." Vic said, very sternly.

Freeman stared at Vic for a moment, "You want this suspension lifted, Vic? You want a clean slate, right?"

Vic listened closely and then slowly nodded in agreement.

"You go out there, to New Hanover, and find these bastards. Do that for me and you're in the clear. The badge will be yours to keep." Freeman said quietly again, almost a whisper.

Vic continued to nod, but then he frowned, "Thing is, Sheriff... It's a long way from New Hanover to get back here... A long way to carry two hogtied criminals..."

Freeman made a slight smirk and then a little laugh, "I guess this time you can deal with them however you see fit, Mr. Noble. Just make sure we didn't lose Robson and Quinn in vein, huh?"

"My way?" Vic asked, almost ordering.

"Your way." Freeman agreed.

Vic felt a strange feeling of relief. A weight coming off his shoulders. Not only was he given a new job, but an opportunity to avenge his dead friends and bring two almost famous outlaws to justice. Justice in death, no less.

Vic then held his hand out across the desk. Freeman knew straight away what he was asking for. The older sheriff then reached into his drawer and brought out the two LeMat Revolvers and the shiny badge. He slid everything over the desk towards Vic who quite happily took them back.

"New Hanover, right?" Vic asked to make sure just as he pinned the badge back onto his vest.

"Right. Probably best to take the train from Benedict Point to Blackwater. From there you can catch another one into New Hanover." Freeman suggested, knowing the land like the back of his hand.

"Okay, I'll do that. I'll keep in touch as much as I can by mail, but I could be gone a little while." Vic told his boss, holstering both LeMat's on either side of the his belt.

"Take as much time as you need. Just bring those fuckers down." Freeman ordered, pouring another drink.

Vic nodded, "Sheriff."

"Noble." Freeman nodded back.

"Good day." Vic smiled, walking out of the office once again.

Vic didn't need to prep much for the journey. He spent the following half hour filling his satchel with canned food, water and cigarettes. The maverick lawman made sure he had plenty ammo for both his LeMat's and then started to lead April out of town. People were watching as he went by with his horse, wondering where he was going _this_ time. Vic didn't really want to tell anyone, but then he found himself forced to.

"Vic! Hey Vic!" Ellie shouted a few yards behind.

_Oh shit_, he thought to himself.

Ellie jogged up to Vic and April, "Where ya going?"

"It's official business for the Sheriff, Ellie. Can't say much more." Vic said, continuing to lead the horse.

Ellie kept following, "Oh come the fuck on, an hour ago you were suspended! What the fuck's going on?"

Vic sighed again and stopped the horse, turning to his close young friend.

"I'm going to hunt down some bad folk, alright? Far away from here in New Hanover. It's a different state." Vic admitted to her, feeling he had to.

"Well, can't I go with you? For once? You're gonna need some company." Ellie both asked and stated at once.

Vic began leading the horse again, "No you can't. It's too dangerous, probably gonna get messy. You're not getting involved."

"Like fuck I'm not! You know me, I'm quick and quiet! You could use my help, right?!" Ellie asked, her voice breaking.

"People _here_ could use your help, Ellie!" Vic yelled, climbing into the saddle, "Barnes is the only lawman left here now and he's gonna need a hand!"

"We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, what am I supposed to do here?!" Ellie asked, her arms wide.

"Go hunt for one of your treasures! Bring some money into town, we could use it!" Vic told her looking back, trying to make her feel better as she always did for him.

Ellie didn't reply, instead she put on a slight pet lip and her eyes went a little watery. Vic turned away at that point. Her crying was something he didn't need to see at that time.

"I'll be back, Ellie! Trust me! I always come back!" Vic reassured his would-be niece before giving April a nudge with his foot.

The horse took off fast on the dirt road out of town, leaving a cloud of sand and dust in the air in front of Ellie. Vic didn't want to leave her like that, but he had a job to do now. Hunt down two pieces of scum. And he was gonna see it through.


	5. Chapter IV

**CHAPTER IV**

**_EMERALD RANCH, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900_**

It was warm outside, but with a nice cool breeze. Morning had took its place and the sound of birds was its tune. Sawyer had limped out of Crowley's hut holding his ribs. It hurt him to simply move at this point and he knew it wasn't gonna ease up for quite some time. He wasn't sure how he was gonna be able to get to Valentine, either by walking or riding, given his injuries. Then he remembered something.

"Neigan... Shit..." The young outlaw whispered to himself, leaning on the wooden wall of the hut.

So much had happened since he had woke up that he had completely forgotten about his horse. The last time Sawyer had seen his stallion was at the camp with Roland, and Crowley had told him he'd been out cold for a few days at that point. He needed Neigan, or a new horse at the very least. If Roland had killed Neigan, all he had done was doom himself to a more painful demise.

But Sawyer didn't let it worry him. Instead he kept limping through Emerald Ranch, taking in the peace and serenity that the place offered him. With his mind consumed by thoughts of Payne and how he was gonna get to him, Sawyer knew that he had to keep his cool if he wanted things to go his way.

As he strolled down the dirt path, Sawyer saw that the ranch had a stable, a pen full of sheep and even a small shop stall next to a barn where a guy seemed to be selling and buying jewellery and the sort. That was where Crowley was, standing with another cigarette lit, talking with the stall owner. Wasn't long before the old doctor noticed Sawyer and waved him over.

"Managed to get yourself up then?" The doctor called out, the cigarette between his lip and moustache.

"Sure did, but not without lack of trying." Sawyer replied, his voice still strained.

Only now that Sawyer was outside the hut and into the fresh air of The Heartlands, did he notice how tall Ted Crowley was. In another life, he could've been a pretty intimidating outlaw, Sawyer thought.

"Those ribs be back to normal in a few weeks, I should think." Crowley nodded, his eyes squinting from the sun.

"Fingers crossed, I guess." Sawyer replied, looking around the area, "Listen, Ted. That day you and your boy found me up by Kamassa. You happen to see a horse near the camp too?"

Crowley blew out the smoke from his old and tired lungs, "Yeah that we did. Guess I forgot to mention it, what with you waving a knife at me earlier and such."

Sawyer winced, "Still sorry about that."

"Just messin' with you, son." Crowley laughed, flicking the cigarette end away.

Things almost seemed to good to be true. Ted had practically saved Sawyer's life, but the old fella had also brought Neigan back too. The young outlaw was bracing himself for something, anything at all, to go wrong. He didn't deserve any of the good fortune that had befell him. Not yet anyways.

"We got the big guy in the stable, I'll take you to it."

"A'ight, appreciate it. I really do."

"Ain't no problem." Crowley said before turning back, "See you later, Seamus!"

"Yup!" Shouted the man behind the Fence.

Crowley put a hand on Sawyer's shoulder and led him in the direction of the stable. Everyone around the place gave nods of respect and welcoming smiles in-between doing their daily chores. Most had their own little huts or cabins, with a special someone living in the one big pristine house that watched over the ranch. The young outlaw felt, for a few moments, like he could just stay at Emerald Ranch. Work for his keep, like all the other honest men of the world. The place was so peaceful. It didn't even have that many folks in it, but those that _were _there, seemed genuine and welcoming. Sawyer could just feel it feeding the guilt he already had. The sort of people at the ranch were probably the same sort that he and Roland had robbed, beaten or even worse in the past. Soon, his idealistic thoughts were buried, just as fast as they'd started.

"How'd you get yourself in that mess, son? If you don't mind my asking?" Crowley said, very understandably curious.

"Best I keep it to myself, Ted." Sawyer replied, quietly and cagey.

"Your way, young one. Just being a little curious is all. You get that more at my age." The old man said, making light of the situation.

"Guess being a doctor only makes it worse, huh?" Sawyer smirked.

"Your goddamn right." Crowley sighed and glared at once.

"How long you been doing what you do?" Asked the injured outlaw.

"Since god was a kid."

Sawyer laughed, then coughed "That long huh? Guess it's long enough to get good at it."

"Well I guess everyone else can be that judge." Crowley smiled back, taking out another smoke from his pocket.

As the old doctor lit the match and Sawyer heard the ember burn, the two walked further up the dry dirt path for a moment in silence. The Heartlands were a sight to behold. On a clear day like it was, you could see nothing but grassy fields and hills for miles. Across the chaparrals you could see the tall, nature-made rock monuments that stood high above New Hanover. Far enough north, Sawyer could even see the cold mountains of the Grizzlies up in Ambarino. It was there in those snowy winter lands that Sawyer always felt like going whenever the weather got too hot down south.

"So you got a place in mind where you'll be heading next?" Crowley asked, dragging Sawyer back out of his own mind.

"Valentine, that's where I've decided." Sawyer admitted.

"Well it ain't far from here, just maybe an hour or so west. We'll get you your stallion and get you on your way." Said the doctor, such a comforting man with a reassuring voice.

Sawyer felt so grateful to Crowley, yet so bad for keeping so much hidden from him. The young outlaw felt as though he didn't want to disappoint the man he hardly even knew, yet owed so much to. He then couldn't keep it to himself any longer.

"Alright, I guess I owe you an explanation or two, Ted." Sawyer said, stopping mid walk.

Crowley turned, "It's your business, son. All I did was my job. You don't owe me a damn thing."

"I'm an outlaw." Sawyer admitted, bluntly.

"Yeah? I figured as much." Crowley said, shrugging his shoulders.

"You figured as much?"

"Son, I do my job day in and day out. Stitching wounds, removing bullets, sometimes even telling poor folks they're gonna die. I see a lot of strange things and even stranger people. An outlaw ain't that uncommon. Not in this land, anyway." Told the old man, puffing away at the cigarette.

"You heard of a man named Roland Payne?" Sawyer glared, his voice straining again.

Crowley took another long drag, "I have. Should think everyone has around these parts."

Sawyer sighed, groaned and then walked closer to the old fella.

"I was the man that rode with Roland Payne. If you've heard of that monster and the shit he's been causing across the state, then you've heard of the young pup that he's been doing it with." Sawyer fully admitted, guilty of himself.

Crowley was quiet, didn't seem to really care, he just kept smoking. Sawyer wasn't sure what to do, so he kept talking.

"Payne was the one who left me for dead up there. He's the one who killed the woman and her boy. It was that walking demon that left the bullet in my fucking mouth." Sawyer continued, the anger and rage in his voice becoming ever so clear.

Again, Crowley said nothing. His latest cigarette was reaching the butt. With his tired eyes and big old moustache, the old man just kept still and continued to listen to the young one.

"I tried to stop him murdering the woman and her kid. But I fucking failed." Sawyer said, almost a whisper at the end. He still had so little energy and was still filled with so much guilt.

Sawyer turned away at that point, feeling it would be wrong to look Crowley in the eye after everything he had done for him. The young outlaw felt guilty. Guilty that he had kept this from Ted, guilty that he had not managed to save the woman and child and guilty that he had not stopped Payne earlier in their days together.

"So you're goin' after him?" Crowley asked, breathing out the last of his smoke and finally making a sound.

Sawyer just stood, holding his ribs and wincing a little bit. After a moment of hesitation he finally looked back at Crowley and simply nodded.

Crowley spit on the ground, "Come on, let's get you to your horse."

Sawyer listened and watched as Crowley started walking again. The young outlaw soon followed.

In the stables, among the damp wood, smell of manure and hay there were many horses. All different but similarly beautiful creatures. One mare was a gorgeous cream colour with white hair. On the other side there was a horse as black as the night sky but looked as strong as an oak tree. As the stable-hand was about to wash and brush the next horse along, Sawyer spotted that it was his own.

"Hold on a second, partner." Sawyer said quietly to the stable-hand.

The man in the dirty overalls stopped and watched as Sawyer looked at Neigan and calmly approached.

"Hey boy... It's me." Sawyer said gently, opening the stable gate and getting closer to his brown stallion.

"Fella was a little nervous when we found him. Had to lead him hear from a distance otherwise we might've lost him." Crowley said.

Sawyer smiled and finally got close to Neigan. The young outlaw wondered for a minute if the horse recognised him yet, but then finally Neigan started gently nudging his owner with his damp nose.

"There we go. Good boy." Sawyer said with a chuckle, patting and gently stroking Neigan's face and neck.

Eventually the dirty stable-hand passed Sawyer the brush and let him clean up his own horse for a short time. Sawyer felt less alone now. As welcome as he had been at Emerald Ranch, he still felt like he was on his own. But now he had Neigan, which felt like being reunited with an old friend. After all, Neigan was about the only real loyal companion Sawyer had ever had.

"When you're ready I'll meet you outside, son." Crowley said, smiling and nodding before walking out of the stable.

Sawyer listened and watched the doctor leave him with Neigan. The young outlaw was still astonished that Crowley had seemed to pass no judgement. But the day wasn't over yet.

"Let's get outer here, hey boy?" Sawyer asked Neigan before struggling to climb up into the saddle.

Once he was on Neigan's back holding the leashes around the horse's neck, Sawyer took a few moments to catch his breath and let the pain in his ribs subside. He knew it was gonna be a hard and rough ride with his ribs being in the state they were, but he had to do it if he was gonna find the son of a bitch.

The smelly stable-hand opened the gate, Sawyer rattled the leashes and Neigan trotted on out of the enclosed space and then turned left out into the fresh air and breeze. Once he was outside, Neigan got a little excited about being back in the open air and started to gallop a little bit around the area outside the stable. Crowley had to back up against the stable's wall to get out of the horses direction.

"Whoa, boy!" Sawyer shouted and groaned, "Easy now!"

Neigan trotted around and even reared for a brief moment. He'd clearly gotten tired of being in the stable for all those days.

"Easy! Shhh!" Sawyer said, calming the stallion.

Soon, Neigan did as his owner said. The horse slowly and gradually calmed down and reduced the gallop back to a slow trot.

"Yeah. That's it. Good boy."

"Quite the mount you got there!" Crowley yelled out.

"I guess he's happy! More than can be said of the fool sitting atop of him!" Sawyer replied, trotting over to the elder doctor by the stable.

"Here, take this." Crowley said, holding his hand out.

Sawyer took from him a wad of cash. There must've been $60 at least as the young outlaw took a quick count. He was stunned, his mouth catching flies.

"I can't take this, Ted." Sawyer shook his head and held the cash back out.

"You goddamn can, and you will."

"After everything I just told you? It took a lot for me to be honest."

"And I appreciate that you _was_ honest." Crowley said with a nod.

Sawyer sighed again before reluctantly dropping the bundle of notes into his satchel. He didn't deserve such kindness. Not yet.

"Valentine's just an hour west. Like I said." The old man said, pointing.

"I can't thank you enough." Sawyer said.

"You thanked me enough the first time you thanked me at all."

"Well what can I do to repay you? There's gotta be something." Asked the young man, his voice almost desperate.

"Just be safe." Crowley said, taking out yet another cigarette, "You might've been one of the bad ones, or at least rode with one of the bad ones. But it looks like you've got yourself a second chance, son."

Sawyer listened but again found it hard to maintain eye contact. Instead he breathed in the fresh air, listened to the birds and took in the surroundings again.

"Not many of us get a second chance. So make the most of it." Crowley ordered, lighting the match and then the cigarette.

"It's what I plan to do... Once I find him." Sawyer replied quietly.

"If that's what you gotta do, son. But remember this, revenge ain't gonna solve much. Once he's gone, there'll be someone else to replace him."

Sawyer shook his head, "Believe me, Ted. Payne's not replaceable. He's gotta be stopped, and I'm the one taking up the task."

Crowley simply nodded out of respect, but his face told a different story.

Sawyer then nodded back, "Doctor Crowley."

"Sawyer." Crowley smirked again, his moustache slanting, "Good luck to you."

The young outlaw then rattled the leashes again, this time faster and Neigan was more than happy to obey. Sawyer's horse bolted a little bit as it shot off into a gallop down the dirt path, leaving Crowley behind. With every gallop and trot, Sawyer felt his ribs scream at him, but if he was gonna make it to Valentine, it was something he was gonna have to deal with.

Residents and workers at Emerald Ranch watched, nodded and waved to Sawyer as he and Neigan sped through fast on their way out. Sawyer had spent only a few conscious hours there, but he knew he was gonna miss it. In a world as ugly and evil as the one he lived in, Emerald Ranch had so far been the friendliest and most welcoming place Sawyer had been to. Then again, it was the first place he'd been in New Hanover without the company of Roland Payne. A truth that could not be ignored.

Everything got quieter as Sawyer got further and further away from the ranch, finding himself getting deeper into The Heartlands. It was a beautiful green chaparral. The young gunslinger rode on his horse and took in the surroundings in a way he hadn't done before. Before this, he'd constantly been looking over his shoulder, to see if he was being followed or if Roland was about to kill someone. Now he had the chance to really bask in the glory of where he was. On one side of the path he could see herds of Buffalo running in the opposite direction and on the other a small group of deer's who vanished as quickly as they appeared.

It had been so long since Sawyer had felt so at ease, despite the surging pains through his cracked ribs. He was still grunting and groaning with every gallop Neigan made, but the scenery was enough to dull those aches.

Sawyer rode for a good half hour, stopping only once to make sure he was heading in the right direction and to pick some herbs off of some plants. Herbs that had been known to help with pain if there was no other remedy. Neigan had then carried him further along the roads towards Valentine, passing through the same tall rock monuments that Sawyer could see all the way back in Emerald Ranch. It was then that Sawyer finally saw someone else coming towards him from down the hill in front. Having spent most of his journey taking in the views and trying to fight back the rage-filled thoughts of the man he was hunting, Sawyer had not even noticed that he hadn't passed a single soul.

The strange rider ahead was wearing a long dark coat that went down to his knees. It was an older guy, older than Sawyer at least. The horse he rode on was grey and dirty, stopping very suddenly with a skid in front of the young outlaw causing Neigan to rear upwards and let out a yell.

"Help you, mister?!" Sawyer called out, coughing and waving away the dirt and dust that the man's horse had blown in his direction.

"Certainly can, boyo!" The stranger replied, his voice broad Irish.

Sawyer patted Neigan to calm him again while waiting for the Irish stranger to continue. That was when Sawyer felt someone grab his belt. The young outlaw turned and saw another stranger, long haired, brown teeth smirking, pointing a Schofield Revolver up at him.

"Off the fucking horse, boy." Growled the other stranger, this one not Irish.

Sawyer didn't reply or obey. Instead he chose to simply stare back at the ugly man. This turned out to be a big mistake as the stranger than dragged Sawyer off of Neigan quickly and roughly. Sawyer hit the ground hard on his side, sending an explosive pain through his abdomen. The young outlaw yelled in pain, squirmed on the floor, hoping and waiting for the pain to end. The Irish stranger and his dingy friend could do nothing but watch and laugh.

"Get him up now, Harry. We can't have him doying on us." Said the Irishman, still laughing.

Chuckling and grinning with his rotten teeth, the ugly stranger grabbed Sawyer and started pulling him to his feet. Sawyer put in all of his own weight so that the stranger would struggle. The young outlaw was still finding it hard to breath as he was being pulled and dragged.

"Get up, you little shit!" The ugly man shouted, trying to hoist Sawyer up from the ground.

"Come on out now, we've got him! A lot easier than we thought lads!" The Irishman then called out to the field next to them.

Another stranger, also wearing the same long dark coat and wielding a Pump-Action Shotgun, stood up from behind a bush on the plain just next to Sawyer. He kept his aim on the young outlaw, now dirty from all the dirt and dust from the ground.

"Bloody hell, Roland was royt about you. You really haven't got _anything_ in ya!" Said the Irishman with a smug face.

Sawyer heard that loud and clear. The Irish raider had mentioned Roland. These men had seen Roland Payne. And that was when Sawyer realised he'd been held up by a bunch of O'Driscolls. These were a toxic gang that were notorious in New Hanover. Ever since Colm O'Driscoll, they're leader, was hung the year before in Saint Denis, they'd became even more unhinged than they were before. Now they took orders and jobs from the highest bidder. Sawyer knew they were a bunch of hideous, cowardly marauders, but to take orders from Roland Payne put them on an even lower level than before.

"If I have to tell you to get up again, boy! I'll shoot you right here and now!" Shouted down the ugly O'Driscoll.

Sawyer waited another moment for the raider to grab him again and then made his move. The young outlaw pulled out the small knife from Crowley's medical table, pushed away the O'Driscolls gun hand and shoved the blade deep into his gut.

"Fuck!" Shouted the Irishman.

Sawyer yanked the blade along to the waist and heard the ugly O'Driscoll shriek and gargle on his own blood. As he lost strength in Sawyer's arms, the young gunslinger used his body as a shield and slyly took the Schofield from his limp hand.

"Shoot him! Quick ya daft bastard!" Pointed the O'Driscoll, yelling in panic and backing off.

The shotgun-wielding O'Driscoll looked between the men, not really knowing what to do and then aimed his gun at Sawyer, who was still shielded by the dead man. But it was too late, as Sawyer then shot the armed raider once in the chest and then once again in the head. Thankfully he'd had practice in the past using his left hand.

Only the Irishman then remained, who tried to climb back on his horse which reared in fear and bolted off at high speed, sending him flying back into the dirt.

Sawyer scowled in pain and anger before tossing the body he'd used as a shield to the ground like a rag-doll. As he needed some questions answered, he had to make sure that the Irishman didn't get away or pull out some hidden gun. Sawyer then aimed closely, this time with his right hand, and shot the sniveling O'Driscoll in the back of the shin as he tried to get up and run away. The idiot hit the ground face first and dragged out a loud scream that startled nearby birds.

"You daft prick! That's me leg!" He screamed, his voice starting to irritate the young mans ears.

Sawyer let the man crawl and bleed whilst he grabbed the two bodies and looted both. The young outlaw found more cash and some rings and bracelets that he could sell, probably already stolen from someone else. But most importantly, he took their holsters, the Schofield revolver, Pump-Action and whatever ammo there was. Now Sawyer felt more like himself, even if his ribs still hadn't really calmed down from the fall.

"Ah! Fuck! Argh!" Groaned and moaned the remaining O'Driscoll, trying to crawl away but getting nowhere.

Sawyer whistled out loud with his fingers. Neigan was just a few yards away in the grassy plain, but he wouldn't come back until Sawyer's whistle told him it was safe. The big brown stallion came galloping back right away. When he got to his owner, Sawyer patted him on the face gently.

"That's a good boy." He told the horse calmly.

Turning then to the crawling Irish raider, he saw that he hadn't made it but a few yards, his leg still bleeding heavily. Sawyer kept the Schofield equipped and approached him slowly. Once he was standing over him, Sawyer pressed his right boot down onto the bullet wound. Even the young outlaw himself winced at the sound of the scream the O'Driscoll let out next. It even echoed through the gigantic rock pillars that stood over the land.

"Where is he?!" Sawyer shouted, pressing his foot in hard.

"Ahh, fuck! Who?! Who ya on about?!" Cried out the cowardly raider.

"Payne!... Roland Payne!" Sawyer growled, clicking back the hammer of the Schofield.

Eventually, after more pressure, the Irishman didn't even have the energy to scream. He whimpered, his eyes watering, and looked as though he was about to pass out.

"I've got some healing tonic's and a bandage in my bag." Sawyer whispered, now crouching down, "It's yours if you just tell me where he is and why he sent you."

The Irishman panted heavily and stared into Sawyer's eyes. He was frightened of the much younger kid.

"Al'royt! You win, boyo!" He yielded, "He told us to get your arse, either kill ya or bring you back to him!"

"Why?" Sawyer asked, the gun aiming closer to the man's head.

"He's troying to test your metal, laddie! Said you was his road-wife for a while! Now he want's you put to bed!" Admitted the O'Driscoll, the strength in his voice failing.

"Then he should've killed me when he had the goddamn chance, the stupid cocksucker." Sawyer growled with a grin of his own.

Sawyer then stood back up over the bleeding man, "Now, _where_ is he?"

The Irishman looked up, still weak, "Last we saw he was in Valentoyne... But that was days ago, said he'd be going further North of there eventually. Told us to bring you to him up there if we nabbed ya!"

Finally, Sawyer had some answers and a lead to go on. He nodded to himself with satisfaction and then looked back to the Irishman.

"So... About those bandages boyo..."

Sawyer smiled, nodded and then responded by shooting the O'Driscoll straight in the face. Now there were three dead bodies left on the bloody and grassy plains of The Heartlands. Wouldn't be the first ones and wouldn't be the last. The young outlaw then holstered his Schofield and climbed back onto Neigan, who seemed to shake with a hint of joy that his owner had mounted him once again. Sawyer laughed and patted the stallion on the neck.

"That's right boy, we're gonna get him." Sawyer said aloud, to Neigan and in some ways to himself.

Then with a whip of the leash, Neigan started to gallop fast away from the bloody scene and on the way to Valentine, which after another few minutes, finally came into view across the plains.


	6. Chapter V

**CHAPTER V**

_**VALENTINE, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900**_

As the train slowed to a stop after a long, almost two days ride from New Austin, Vic was nudged awake as the enormous locomotive shuddered to a halt. There wasn't many other folks on board by that point, most passengers having all stepped off earlier in their journeys. Vic was one of only five people left in the train cart, but it was more than clear that he was the only one not from this area. In comparison to the two old hags, young woman and another older fella, Vic was noticeably a little more tanned and a little darker in skin tone thanks to his exposure to the hotter weather and open sun back in New Austin.

Vic had been on the train for a whole day and a half, with only a couple of stops at different stations to take a piss. April was stored in the horse-cart at the back of the train and he had done nothing most of the journey but watch out of the window as the lands and terrains around him changed. New Austin was always a mixture of glorious browns and golds thanks to the stretching desert patches and empty chaparrals, both being boiled by the sun. But as the train moved further away, into West Elizabeth and then eventually into New Hanover, the views were suddenly a rich and fresh shade of green as the grass-covered hills and fields seemed to overpower much of anything else. Trees were everywhere in New Hanover, something that was a real rare sight far out West.

Being the only man clearly not from that state and also sporting a U.S Marshall's badge, Vic had attracted both suspicious and curious eyes, whilst also causing shy and fearful eyes to look anywhere but in his direction. The paler people of New Hanover somehow seemed quieter and more relaxed than the population out in New Austin, something Vic really couldn't understand.

The Tumbleweed Deputy checked himself over, making sure nothing had been stolen from him during his snooze. He'd changed into a fresh white shirt, taken off the vest and instead put a smart dress tie around his neck that hung right down to his belt buckle, making him definitely look more desirable to the common thief. Everything was still there though, from his satchel of provisions and cigarettes to his LeMat's. All he needed now was his horse and he could finally get to hunt the two outlaws he was sure he'd been dreaming about every time he had slept in his seat.

Vic saw the huge wooden sign out through the window. Stuck to the glorious, big yellow building, it read 'VALENTINE STATION', so the maverick deputy knew for sure he was in the right place. Strawberry was the last town Payne and his young pal had been seen in, but the reports had all stated they had headed further East, and Valentine was the next town in line.

"Such a dirty place." Muttered one of the old hags with disgust.

"Most places should catch up to Saint Denis. Now that is a fine town." The other old witch-looking lady said back.

Vic was getting impatient as the two old hateful women slowly made their way down the steps of the train and onto the wooden platform. What hit Vic first as he stepped onto the wooden deck was the weather. New Hanover was so much colder than New Austin, just by nature. There was a colder breeze in the air and he could've mistaken it as winter time if he hadn't known for a fact that it was the dawn of summer.

Again, the Tumbleweed deputy felt the shifty eyes and lowered brows of the bystanders waiting on the platform to board the same train. Vic felt it a funny thing that a man of the law probably attracted the most fearful and angry judgments of the people he was there to protect. After so many years in the job he still didn't understand it and seldom tried to anymore.

After moving confidently passed the small crowd, his hands resting instinctively on both of his LeMat handles, Vic entered Valentine Station and saw again how different things were there in comparison to where he had come from. The Station just smelt fresher, the paint was all well done, all the chairs were shiny and new. Even the clerks behind the counter's were dressed up like they were ready for a ball. Everyone around made Vic feel like a dirtbag, which he was sure as hell someone had thought of him as he'd walked in.

After the man in front had been served, Vic was next in line to speak to one of the station clerks. Stood behind the barred window with just a small opening for hands, the man turned to Vic and smiled.

"Howdy stranger, name's Alden. What can I do for you today?" Asked the clerk, a bit overly friendly.

"Deputy from Tumbleweed, I'm looking for some people." Vic replied, his voice direct and calm.

"From where, you say?"

Vic sighed, "Tumbleweed. Settlement in New Austin."

"Oh… Never heard of it, all due respect sir… Uh, Deputy." The clerk replied, stammering and laughing forcefully.

A train station clerk who had never heard of Tumbleweed. Vic couldn't really say he was surprised. His little home town was pretty invisible to the world and getting ever more so as time went on. It was so far out West and off the beaten track that even citizens of New Austin itself sometimes forgot it existed. It was the way the clerk kept stuttering his words and became nervous that got Vic's attention.

"I'm looking for a man named Roland Payne. You might've heard of _him?_" Vic asked bluntly, after a long stare.

The clerk stopped and looked away to think, "He a business man?"

"_Wanted_ man"

"Oh, my god. Can't say I know much about that, sir."

"Deputy."

The clerk's eyes darted right back, "Right… Deputy."

"Anywhere I should maybe ask around? Can you at least tell me that?" Vic said, getting closer to the counter.

"Saloon, most probably. If any bad eggs have been seen or heard about 'round these parts, the saloon is where you'd get most in the loop." Replied the clerk, rather quickly.

Vic shot the man another blank and cold stare, "Thank you. Pleasure speaking."

"Pleasures all mine, sir!... Sorry, Deputy!" Yelled the clerk as Vic turned and started walking out.

Vic smoked one of his cigarettes just outside the station at the bottom of the wooden ramp. Standing in the wet mud and grass, his boots were already drenched in dirt since the place had no pavement and wasn't just dry sand and dust like out West. Vic started to see what the old hags meant.

His pack of cigarettes was almost empty, with only three left after the one already between his lips. Vic soon added a new pack to his list of priorities.

Valentine seemed so active and alive. It was mid-afternoon and already there were constant wagons going in and out of town, farmers and ranchers herding sheep in and out of pens and people causing ruckus' outside of what Vic assumed was a smaller saloon on the right side of town. Dirt was getting splattered on the deputy's trousers too, as horses were also persistently galloping past each way. New Hanover was clearly more inhabited and restless than New Austin, and closer to the ideal 'civilization' that Vic had only heard about once in a while back where he came from. Back there, this idea of 'civilization' and 'society' was a myth, only ever heard about in tales about cities like Saint Denis. Now, standing in just Valentine, the Tumbleweed deputy could see how those tales came to be told.

The settlement was a series of buildings, big and small, made of hard, dark wood that stood upon the slimy mud that served as the people's ground to walk on. Aside from it being cooler, Vic noticed a slight mist in the air, like a gentle fog. Probably from some recent rainfall, which would explain the texture of the filth he was standing on. He had never been this far East ever before and was starting to wonder whether he liked it or not.

Valentine was for sure an image to behold in and of itself, but then Vic's eyes were finally caught by a sight high above town, across the tall trees, far in the distance yet so clear. There were a bunch of huge, pale-white, snow covered mountains. They looked mythical, as if they'd be unreachable. Vic couldn't fathom that they were probably just a few miles further North. He had never seen anything like them before, truly a testament to how different this land felt to him.

"Here's the girl, Deputy!" Shouted the fella from the horse-cart.

Vic turned, blowing out the last of his cigarette, and saw the dirty man. He was covered in all the manure that plagued the cart he had to work in every day. That, mixed with his sweat, meant he could be smelt from a mile off.

"Thank you, how was she?" Vic asked, looking up at April as the man lead her.

"Not as bad as some of the rest, I guess. Fine looking horse though, sir, if I may say."

"Appreciate that, I'm sure she does too." Vic mumbled, more interested in petting April's long snout.

Vic then noticed the man was still there watching, out of breath, hands resting on his hips.

"Something else?" Vic asked.

"Oh no sorry, sir… Just usually get a tip, is all." The young man asked, now rubbing his palms together nervously.

Vic winced in his direction, "You want a tip?"

Suddenly the man's face, behind all the muck and horseshit, dropped.

"Okay, here's a tip. Don't ask for tips. Then you might get 'em."

Stunned and at a loss for words, the young, smelly horse-handler watched as Vic grabbed April's leashes and started walking through the smudge and wet dirt, slipping a little with every step, up the path further into town.

More curious, uneasy and conspicuous eyes watched Vic as he made his way to the main street of Valentine, leading his white, pearlescent mare down the muddy road with him. His Deputy badge was again glistening in the sunlight. That, along with the shirt and tie, left no other possibilities in the residents' minds as to what Vic was. But just like the people on the train, they knew he was clearly not a lawman from around here.

_Might as well be a fucking animal_, Vic thought to himself, trying his best not to provoke the eyes that stalked him.

A lot of folks in town sat on the edges of the wooden decks of the buildings' entrances. They were smoking, drinking and bullshitting amongst other things. Aside from the merchant and delivery wagons, hardly anyone else seemed to be actually doing much of anything. Vic felt the only person there with any actual business or work to do.

Stopping just at the end of the main street, which was still caked in dark and slippery mud, Vic hitched April on a post just outside of the dark cabin-like place that was labelled 'GENERAL STORE'. He'd walked down the dirt and observed the store that sold weapons, the Valentine jailhouse, the main saloon of town and now the building he wanted to visit first.

Valentine looked just like Armadillo back in New Austin, Vic noticed. Except this place was colder, louder, crammed with people, dirtier and therefore smellier. The maverick deputy couldn't really tell if he was stood in mud, more horseshit, or maybe even a mix of both.

"Stay here, girl." Vic whispered to April, patting her neck and making sure the leash was tight around the post.

Just down from the General Store, he saw a building still under construction, being hammered and nailed together by a couple of people who finally seemed like they were doing something other than sitting on their asses.

Vic then finally saw on the opposite row of buildings, there was the 'Valentine Hotel'. It was the only really nice and acceptable looking building in town other than the station. Strangely though, the hotel was based right across the dirt from the big barn of town. Now the deputy knew where the sudden smell of manure was coming from.

Snapping himself out of the stink-induced trance, Vic took a moment to close his eyes, reluctantly breathe and then refocus his mind. When his eyes reopened, he noticed a scrawny old fella hobbling past, more mud on his face than on his shoes. His own eyes were squinting and his mouth was twisting, shooting Vic one of the most disapproving looks the deputy had ever received.

Vic smirked and laugh silently, "What a fucking place."

When the Deputy entered the general store, a bell went off above the door and it creaked. Nobody would ever be sneaking into the place, that was for sure.

"Hello there, sir! Haven't seen you around here before." Said the owner, a big guy with a bigger beard and long hair.

"Yeah, howdy." Vic said nodding, his voice low.

The store was ram packed more than any store out West. Vegetables, fruit, booze, even candy was there in abundance. Place smelled immensely better than the other side of the door Vic suddenly realised, as it wasn't a struggle to breathe anymore.

"You from Lemoyne?" Suddenly asked the owner, nice and friendly.

"New Austin. Where's Lemoyne?" Vic asked, brows low.

"Oh, Lemoyne's the next state, south-east of here. It's pretty hot and humid there. Just noticed the sun on your face is all, sir."

"No friend, I'm from a faraway land. You ain't heard of it, trust me." Vic replies, still gazing at the store's wares.

"Okay then," Chuckled the guy, "What can I get you?"

Vic then turned himself to the owner, who instantly noticed the silver, star-shaped badge on the right side of Vic's shirt.

"Cigarettes? I'm almost out." Vic asked, curious.

"Of course, Sheriff. Just over there above the cans of beans." The owner said respectfully, pointing directly ahead.

"Just a deputy, friend." Vic said with a little laugh.

"Oh, I do apologise."

"No need. First time I've been called a Sheriff." Vic said with another smirk.

Vic saw that there were not only cigarettes there, but packs of what were called 'Premium Cigarettes'. The lawman didn't really know what the difference was other than the price. And because of that, he stuck to the regulars.

"Just two packs of these please, friend." Said the deputy, waving one pack in the air.

"Of course. That'll be just $3, please." Replied the shopkeeper.

"$3? Jesus… You packing for early retirement?"

The owner stopped and then went as quiet as his store, looking blankly at Vic's face.

Holding out the money, Vic smiled "I'm just making a joke."

"Oh! Of course!" The owner then loosened up, forcing a laugh, "Thank you, deputy!"

"Much obliged." Vic said, turning to leave.

"Pleasure to help in any way I can, sir." Kindly said the shopkeeper, causing Vic to stop.

The maverick lawman thought for a moment, rubbing his thick black goatee and moustache. So far this shop owner had been the only real friendly person in town, aside from the fake clerk in the train station.

"Maybe you _could_ help me actually, friend." Vic said, his voice low but curious, walking back to the counter.

"Absolutely, what else can I do for you?"

"I've came a real long way to get here. I'm looking for some people. Some real bad people. You might know about them." Vic told the owner, quietly but surely.

The burly shop owner leaned forward to listen more carefully, looking around to make sure nobody was about to walk in and that there was nobody listening in through the thin glass windows.

"Two outlaws, causing chaos across the land. One's called Roland Payne, you heard of him?" Vic eagerly asked.

"Certainly have. Be a hard challenge to find someone 'round here that don't know that name."

Vic nodded, "Yeah, well he killed two of my fellow Deputy's in Strawberry a few weeks back. Reports have it that he fled further East afterwards, along with his younger outlaw pal whose name nobody seems to know."

"Sawyer." The owner suddenly said, "That's the young one's name"

"How'd you know that?"

"Well, we've all heard the stories here. All due respect, deputy, but you're clearly not from around this place. Payne is the main guy of the two, killing and robbing people, or worse. But Sawyer's the name of the younger outlaw he rides with. Obviously, the stories of the two are just... More well known in these parts." Replied the man, making a good point.

"Yeah, okay… I get that." Vic nodded again, "Where can I find 'em? I've came a long way to bring those two down."

"I'm not sure, sir. The two of 'em have been through Valentine once or twice, causing fights, leaving some people dead. But I haven't heard anything about them in weeks now."

Vic sighed, closed his eyes and then paced around the creaky floorboards for a minute or two as the owner stood and watched.

"Know anyone in town who might've heard more? Maybe know where they are?" Vic asked, shrugging his shoulders.

The shopkeeper started thinking to himself, his face twisting and wrinkling with deep thought. Vic wasn't expecting a lot from him, but anything at all was better than nothing.

"You're probably best-off stopping by the Saloon, next door. Lot's of people from all over the place get in there on the daily. Either stopping for a drink or some coital activities while on their travels." He suggested, with what seemed like strong confidence.

Vic stood, thumbs hooked into his belt again, "Okay, I'll try there then, thank you."

"Pleasure, deputy. Sure hope you find them."

The Tumbleweed Deputy nodded to the shopkeeper and headed towards the door to leave, but not before stopping once more.

"So, you've all heard more stories about these two cocksuckers? Probably stories closer to home?"

The owner shrugged, "Guess so."

"Tell me then, friend. What exactly am I in for with these two bastards when I find 'em?"

After a moment of silence between the men, nothing but the smell of fruit, vegetables and cheese infecting the wooden room, the shopkeeper finally replied.

"Something dangerous."

Vic heard the man loud and clear, contemplated what he had said and then nodded, finally ringing the bell and hearing the creak again as he left the store.

As he stood on the deck outside the General Store, Vic finally embraced the colder weather of New Hanover. Taking a deep breath, wondering what he was gonna have to do to find Roland and the kid he now knew as 'Sawyer', Vic made sure April was still hitched and then turned left, heading towards the Saloon.

Just as Vic got to the entrance shutters, a guy stumbled out, burped and fell flat into the mud below. From outside he could hear gentle piano music and the murmur of the customers. Vic knew he wasn't about to be the most popular guy to walk in, but he did it anyways.

As the shutters waved to a stop after Vic had walked through them, everyone took a moment to look him over. The barman did it, the customers _at_ the bar did it, the group of rough looking fells playing poker did it. Even the barber at the back took a look over, could've cut the young guy he was shaving.

Vic looked everyone in the eye, not flinching or showing any fear. If the years doing the job in New Austin had taught him one thing, it was to stand his ground to the job he was there to do. No matter the location or the people.

Eventually, after what seemed like an age, everyone got back to their drinks and what they were doing, letting Vic walk calmly towards the bar. He had to slip between two fella's who thought it was clever not to move for him.

"One beer, please." Vic said, a little loud.

The barman just nodded once and went to fetch a bottle, leaving Vic between the two half-cut guys.

"Not from here?" One of them slurred slightly.

"What gave it away?" Vic replied without eye contact.

"You're almost as red as an apple, boy." Said the other guy, equally as drunk.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Weren't meant as one." The guy on Vic's left then snarled.

Vic slowly turned his head to the man, his stare taking the saloon's temperature down a few degrees.

"I know your type, and already I know where you're trying to take things." Vic said quietly, "But if I was you, I'd leave the bar, take a fucking seat and drink up."

Listening close, the man smirked, one eye shut a little, trying real hard to show he wasn't fazed.

"Or what?" He said.

"Or I'm gonna stick one of these guns, up your ass, sideways. You hear me, boy?" Vic whispered, teeth on show like an agitated wolf.

The drunkard swallowed deep and hard, Vic could tell by the way his throat moved. Didn't take long for him to tip his worn hat and do exactly as Vic said.

The deputy then turned to the other boozer at the bar, who quickly did the same and joined his friend at a table across the room.

"One beer. 35 cents please." The barman said, coming back and setting the bottle on the counter.

"Appreciated." Vic replied, dropping a few coins.

"So, out of towner?" Asked the barman, like he'd probably done more than once that day.

"Pretty clear, it would seem."

"Where from?"

"New Austin."

"Damn, that's a long way."

"Oh, you have no fucking idea." Vic laughed a little, taking a gulp of the bottle.

Vic turned and leaned on his side against the bar, taking a look around. Now he'd noticed the women strolling around, flaunting their best parts to every man around. He could've probably done with the pick-me-up, but Vic had always resented paying for it. Just never seemed right to him somehow.

"I' noticed that badge on your shirt, sir. You a Marshall?" Asked the barman, re-organizing the empty jugs.

Vic didn't look at him, "Deputy. Here on business."

"Huh. Dangerous business?"

"Apparently it will be when I get to it." Vic replied, taking another mouthful.

"It's pretty far to come for some dangerous business, ain't it?" He asked, curious.

"I'm after dangerous people." Vic finally admitted, turning back to the man who served him, "In fact, you might've heard of 'em."

"I'll do my best, deputy. But I get a lot of folks come through here, it's hard to keep track, I'll be honest."

"Roland Payne? You've surely heard the name." Vic said aloud.

"I have, he's been here a few times. Pretty sure he was here recently too, maybe a few days back." The barman said, trying to think.

"And his younger pal?"

"That kid was only with him the once. If it _was_ Payne that was here some days back, he was alone that time." Nodded the saloon owner, making sure his memory was correct.

Vic listened and then winced again in thought. Taking another drink, he stood wondering. Who the hell _were_ these two guys he was after? What the fuck kinda duo _were_ they? It was starting to make even him, an experienced man of the law, ask questions. Which he rarely did of his targets anymore.

"Any words being passed around about Payne? Or even Sawyer, the kid?" Vic asked after another drink, burping a little.

"Nah, noth'n really. Whenever Payne's in town, people try to avoid him if they wanna stay in one piece. He might've stopped at the hotel last he was here, but you'd be better off asking there." Suggested the barman, a very honest seeming guy.

Vic listened and then gave a nod of agreement and gratitude. The barman did the same and then turned to serve another young guy who'd just got to the bar.

Drinking and thinking is all Vic could then do. Valentine's hotel was probably his best bet now to find either Roland or Sawyer. But the fact that Payne was last seen without his usual acquaintance was odd. Vic started to wonder if Payne had killed his own partner in crime. It would certainly fit with all the stories that had been told about the man.

Vic stood for a minute, gave off a big sigh and then drank the last of his beer before going to head out again. Before he could, however, he suddenly felt a hand tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he found it was a younger guy, about as tall as him, who'd just been served at the bar. Observing him up and down, Vic realized it was the same fella who'd been getting a shave earlier as he'd walked in. The maverick lawman had no idea who it was that had found him.

"Sorry, did I hear you asking around for a 'Roland Payne'?" Asked the young man, seeming very eager.

Vic squinted a little, "I did, why? You got some info I could use?"

"Not exactly," replied the stranger, "But I'm looking for him myself. Maybe we could have a little talk?"

Vic started to get suspicious, yet admittedly very curious, "You're looking for him too? And who might you be, exactly?"

The stranger looked away at the floor and then around the room before leaner closer.

"Name's Sawyer. Think I heard you say you were looking for me too?" Sawyer whispered closely.

Vic's eyes widened as the words hit him. It was one of them, one of the men he was sent to kill. It now made more sense. This guy was young, calm and clearly keeping low profile and had just been getting a shave. His entire young face was clearly fresh, making him probably less recognizable.

"Buy you a beer?" Sawyer asked casually.

"Sure." Vic replied sternly.

And as the Tumbleweed lawman decided to take Sawyer up on the offer of a little conversation, his hands instinctively ventured closer to his guns.


	7. Chapter VI

**CHAPTER VI**

**_VALENTINE, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900_**

Sawyer faced Vic. Vic was facing Sawyer. The tense air of the Valentine Saloon had doubled for these two men. Most, if not all of the other patrons had dispersed and left to get on with their days. Almost as if life and fate were giving the two men space.

After the bartender set up all the empty jugs to be cleaned, he quickly slipped out back to empty all the left-over bottles and to collect the money from the girls, leaving Vic and Sawyer alone at their table.

Vic sat as still as a rock; his eyes fixed on the young outlaw. Sawyer's face was still as fresh as though he'd never grew a strand of facial hair. He would probably look handsome if not for the huge purple bruise across the cheek.

Though still wearing his red bandanna around the neck, he'd bought himself a new long sleeve shirt from the store. Now he looked a little like a rancher's son, his shirt a darkish green.

Sawyer observed Vic's tie, badge, general demeanor and came to the conclusion he was a Marshall of some kind the moment he'd saw him at the bar. Usually the young renegade would've made a beeline for the shutters and never shown his face in Valentine again. But when he heard Vic was looking Roland too, he'd suddenly hatched an idea in his head.

Both men had a bottle of beer in front of them, though neither had been touched. Sawyer was nonchalantly turning the bottle on its spot with one hand, holding his ribs with the other.

Vic kept the stare going in pure silence, one hand under the table, grasping a LeMat.

Sawyer sighed, "Why you here?"

"For you." Quietly replied the Deputy.

"Yeah I figured that. What I don't get is you coming all the way from… New Austin, you said?"

Vic nodded slowly, eyes not even blinking.

"How the fuck did you, all the way out there, come to be after Roland?" Sawyer asked.

"And you." Growled Vic.

Sawyer looked up at him, didn't know what to do or say, so just shrugged his shoulders.

"Could you just give me a little something here? Anything at all? Or do I just gotta wait for you to pull that trigger under the table?" Sawyer asked, his own tone becoming darker.

"West Elizabeth." Vic started, "Strawberry. Few weeks back. You remember going through there?"

Sawyer looked up for a moment, "Yeah. Most of our trouble came from what happened up there."

"I'm sure it did… You and that piece of dirt killed a lot of people that day. And two of those folks were friends of mine. Other Deputy's from far out west." Grimly said the vicious lawman.

Sawyer listened and then tried to remember. Everyone who had died in his and Roland's path was a large number at this point. No way could the young outlaw remember anyone specific, let alone two particular Lawmen, who Roland probably did like to kill more than anything else.

"I don't remember... I just don't. Roland killed _so_ many folks that I lost track of it all." Sawyer replied, his voice weak.

Vic eventually caught on that Sawyer had been holding his ribs practically all the time since they'd sat down. Something had happened to him, probably recently too. It had been so long since the maverick deputy really asked himself any questions about his targets or gave them any humane thought, but this situation was just a little too different for his liking.

"You trying to say that it was _just_ Payne that killed all those people?" Vic asked, scowling, "That you didn't fire a _single_ shot that took any lives?"

"Nah I ain't saying that, Deputy. I'm not some little bullshitter. I killed my fair share of people during my time with that… Beast." Sawyer admitted, sadness in his voice.

Vic kept his eyes on Sawyer like a hawk, waiting for any muscle to move in a way that gave him the right to shoot. But it just wasn't happening.

"Beast?... Stories say that cocksucker was your buddy." Vic asked, confused.

Sawyer sighed and groaned again, "Look, I don't know if it may have escaped your notice, _Deputy_. But there ain't no Roland Payne here, a'ight? And believe me you'd know the motherfucker if you saw him."

Vic kept listening; hand tight on the LeMat's hard, wooden grip.

"He's out there now. Probably killing, robbing and torturing more people. Maybe even worse, which he _is_ capable of." Sawyer explained, pretty worryingly.

The young outlaw may have seemed like he was protesting too much to the casual eye, but Vic felt something else. Sawyer didn't sound desperate, he seemed more jaded and exhausted. Clearly, he'd been beaten, seeing as he couldn't stop clutching his ribs. And clearly, he was hiding himself from something, given his ridiculously obvious, clean shaven face. Despite all that, Vic still stuck to his guns, not giving any hint to what he was thinking or feeling.

"What exactly are you trying to say to me, boy?"

Sawyer's face loosened after another strain of pain, "I'm saying… In probably too many words… That I want that man dead too… Dare I say, more than any other one of you."

Vic squinted again,mouth tightening up, getting covered completely by his elegant facial hair. He watched as Sawyer took another, quite big, gulp of his beer.

"I guess I'll ask again… _What_ are you trying to say to me?" Vic sternly asked, cryptically.

Vic thought it would confuse the younger, less world-weary outlaw, but it really didn't.

"That I think we could help each other." Sawyer stated finally, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

Vic glared at his target, "Oh yeah? In what way?"

"You want him dead, right? Revenge... In some kinda way." Sawyer pointed at Vic, then to himself, "And so do I... For everything he's done to the world, and to me."

Vic didn't really know what to say. It had been a long, long damn time since he'd been in this sort of position with a job. He'd learnt many years before to leave emotions and opinions aside. Yet for some reason, Sawyer didn't seem like the rest. Most targets Vic hunted would be on their knees, begging for their life and freedom at this point. Trying to justify their actions with reason and morality. Yet Sawyer wasn't doing that.

Sawyer looked across at the brutal lawman, wondering what he was gonna say. Wondering if this huge risk he'd taken was gonna pay off. It took balls to stroll up to a deputy that was hunting for your ass and try to make a deal. But Sawyer wanted Roland, and was willing to do anything to get to him.

Vic, on the other side, really wanted to pull the trigger. His index-finger was twitching along with his right eye. Yet he stared at the younger guy with such a feeling that he didn't understand. By now, any other criminal would've been a corpse, tied to the back of April. Vic just wanted to shoot, but he just couldn't do it for some reason.

"What'd he do to _you_? After all the stories I heard back West about you two assholes, I find it hard to believe that you both just cut ties." Vic challenged the outlaw.

Sawyer cracked up a little, "It weren't as simple as that, Deputy. Those ties were not just cut. They were fucking snapped in two."

Vic grinned, "Okay... Consider this an official interrogation then. What happened? Tell me… Fast."

Sawyer exhaled deep, "About four days ago… We'd been on the run from Marshall's all the way from Strawberry, and just managed to lose 'em as we got to the Heartlands."

Vic kept listening to the story, gun still tight in his hand, saloon and anything else around becoming non-existent.

"For a long time, even before what happened in Strawberry... I'd wanted to get away from him. He could just kill anyone and anything, for like… Nothing." Sawyer told, his voice both a whisper and a growl, "I never wanted to do anything like what he was making me do. I _never_ wanted to murder or pillage anybody."

Sawyer stopped to take another big drink of beer before slamming the bottle back on the dark oak table.

Vic was still glaring, fixated on the story, still having not tasted a single drop of his own bottle.

Sawyer went on, "Anyways… We made camp that night, got a little bit of food going. I was _so_ tired, man. Riding with him was like riding with a grizzly. I never knew when he was gonna bite or claw or kill... Eventually I tried to stand up to him, and it was gonna get messy when uh…"

The young gun stopped pretty abruptly, annoying Vic as he was surprisingly very interested in the story the kid was telling.

"When what, kid?"

Sawyer sighed slowly again with anger, "Out of the bushes came this woman, and her little boy. He can't have been older than four or five."

Vic listened closer after that, like a startled wolf.

"I knew as soon as they saw us and Roland saw them, that they were dead." Sawyer admitted, now not making eye contact, "So I tried, man… I tried to tell them, tried to scare 'em both off before he made a move, but they wouldn't listen to me."

It seemed that Sawyer wasn't even telling this story to Vic anymore. The calm deputy just listened and watched his target with a little empathy as he seemed to be telling the story mainly to himself.

"Roland… That, piece of _shit_, got up and started sniffing around the poor lady. I knew… I knew exactly what he was gonna do." Sawyer said aloud, staring at nothing, "I couldn't sit there anymore, so I tried to stop him."

Vic leaned closer across the table, "What'd you do?"

Sawyer finally broke from his trance, wiped his damp eyes and looked back to the deputy sent to kill him.

"I aimed my gun at his head… Why I didn't pull that _fucking_ trigger straight away, I have no godly idea." Sawyer told with such regret, "I guess I was scared… Wondering even in that fucking moment if I was doing the right thing."

Vic nodded slowly, his scowl long gone, "Then what?"

"It's all a blur from then on…" Sawyer said calmly before pointing to his face, "Hit me hard with my own gun… And I assume kicked my ribs until they shattered."

Sawyer finished his beer and then burped. The bartender, who had long been back in the Saloon, looked at Sawyer with a little distaste.

"I woke up a few days later, at this little ranch a few miles from here. This doctor, a good fucking man, told me Roland butchered both the woman and her son." Sawyer finally finished, before letting out a long and hard sigh, leaning back in the chair.

Vic had listened closely to it all, and the story of what Roland had done hit closer to the deputy's nerves than any of the others. He'd heard that he was a dangerous guy, but not as sick and twisted as what Sawyer had made him out to be.

"Only one question then, I guess." Vic said, "Why are you still here? Why didn't he just kill you?"

Sawyer shrugged again, "Not really sure. Although some guys tried to raid me when I was on my way here… They'd been sent by Payne himself."

"I'm guessing these raiders are no longer with us? Given _you are?_"

"No, they ain't." Sawyer admitted, "But one of them mentioned that Roland was trying to 'Test my metal', that's what I think he said."

Vic accepted that, "So to Roland now, this thing between you and him is just some… Sick game?"

Sawyer leaned forward again, "Everything is a sick game to him. It's just finally time someone ended that fucking game."

Silence then closed in between the two men. Sawyer had told his story, hoping Vic would see him differently.

Vic had heard the story, and _did_ see Sawyer differently, but wasn't sure if he wanted to admit it or not. So he tried to challenge the young outlaw one final time.

"How is it that I know then... That you won't just kill me as soon as I walk outer here with you?" Vic asked, smirking.

Sawyer stopped still and thought, keeping his eyes fixed on the dangerous deputy. Both were trying so hard to read each other, but were both hitting the same brick walls. It seemed Vic was trying to get Sawyer to prove himself, but that wasn't just it. Vic believed everything the kid had said, but there was just something else he needed. Something to make him realise what kinda outlaw he was dealing with.

Slowly, Sawyer started bringing his right hand back out from under the table. Vic saw this and slyly drew his LeMat out of the holster.

"Consider your next move real carefully, Sawyer." Vic warned, his voice hard, looking at the younger guy's arm.

Sawyer froze, "If I was gonna kill you, Deputy." He then pulled out from under the table a fully cocked Schofield, "I'd have done it long before now."

Vic looked at the revolver in Sawyer's hand. Every chamber was loaded and the hammer definitely pulled back. The maverick hunter was stunned that he'd never noticed that. This kid had skills.

Vic just grinned, "A'ight, fairs fair, kid."

Sawyer nodded one, putting the Schofield down onto the table, infront of Vic's beer. Out of respect, which he was still trying to accept of himself, Vic uncocked his own revolver and laid it down on the table.

"I know you've got another one, Deputy." Sawyer said, smirking himself.

Vic laughed, almost a childish giggle. This kid was good. Both had a little laugh with each other, which broke the powerful tension. The bartender looked over in astonishment with a dropped jaw. Only a few minutes ago, he was preparing himself to mop some blood off of his floor. Now the two guys were having a chuckle together.

"So, _Sawyer... _How do you say we proceed from here?" Vic then asked, finally drinking his beer.

"You're asking me?"

"Well, you know the guy better than most. What'd be our best play?"

Sawyer now glared at the Vic, "Well how do I know you ain't gonna hogtie me when we leave this place, _Deputy_?"

Vic swallowed another mouthful, "I guess you don't, kid. But if I gotta trust you... You gotta trust me."

The young outlaw and the maverick deputy locked eyes again for another minute. There was still an uneasy truce at play, but both seemed to realize they were probably better off working together. Vic knew he had to put aside his violent urges, whilst Sawyer had to put away his usual contempt for men of the law.

Vic wanted Roland Payne dead, and he was gonna need Sawyer to do it. Sawyer wanted Roland Payne dead, and it was better to have someone's help than go it alone.

"Deal." Said the young outlaw, "Don't think I caught your name though, Deputy."

"Vic Noble." He replied, finishing the beer and wiping his beard, "What's your_ full_ name?"

"Don't have one." Sawyer said with a little laugh.

An eyebrow almost left Vic's head, "Okay then... Let's do it."

As both men began to stand from their seats, the shutters of the saloon rattled and the floorboards groaned as a few shady looking fella's strolled in. Vic and Sawyer both looked up and instinctively counted. There were three of them, all looking the same. Dark haired, unwashed, stubbled faced. The deputy and the outlaw looked at one another and then back to the trio of goons.

As usual in these instances, the bartender found himself in a bad spot, "Oh for fuck sake, we want no trouble in here!"

One of goons, wearing the same long dark coat as his cronies, looked at the owner after lifting his hat an inch.

"The trouble's already here." The stranger stated.

All three men looked directly at Sawyer and Vic, who still kept looking at one another, wondering what to do. Thankfully the saloon was empty of any other people, giving Vic a sounder idea on how to approach the situation.

Sawyer stepped forward a little, "You're damn right... 'Cause it just walked in."

The two goons behind what seemed to be the main guy became more uneasy. He had to wave them off for a second.

"You're the trouble, boy. You left three of my men out there on the plains... Dead." The boss man replied, clearly pissed off.

Vic looked at Sawyer, "Those the guys you mentioned earlier? Who knew Payne?"

Sawyer didn't take his eyes off of the strangers, "Yup, those are the ones."

The goons who'd just strolled in were a little stumped watching the two men have a casual chat in the midst of things, acting like they weren't even there.

"So these guys are friends o'yours?" Vic asked, hand hovering over the remaining LeMat.

Sawyer shook his head and smirked, "Friends of Roland's."

Everything went still, timed seemed to stop in that chilly saloon as the three strangers listened, puzzled.

Vic shrugged his shoulders, "A'ight then."

The Tumbleweed Deputy swiftly raised his LeMat and punctured the main stranger's forehead with a single shot. Sawyer very quickly rushed forward, through the ray of blood, and grabbed the goon on the right by the jacket with both hands. Frantically, the remaining stranger threw open his coat and reached for a concealed Sawed-Off, but he was stopped when another LeMat round pierced his temple, dropping him instantly.

With two of the strangers on the deck, leaving ever-expanding puddles of dark blood, Sawyer pummelled the last guy in the face before hauling him sideways towards one of the Saloon's windows. Vic watched, very impressed, seeing the goon fly through the glass and out into the filthy street. Sawyer took a second to wipe himself down, blood from the first kill dotted across his face and neck.

"Jesus, fuck!" Sawyer said, retching and spitting.

Vic still had his trusty gun aimed out, smoke fuming out of the barrel. When it became clear the goon out in the street wasn't getting back up, Vic put away his LeMat, picked the other one up from the table and holstered it on the other side.

Sawyer kept wiping away the blood with his own spit-covered hands until he was satisfied. The young outlaw went back to pick up his own revolver, looking up at Vic who was still staring at him with astonishment.

"What?" The fresh faced outlaw asked.

Vic just smirked again, adjusting his tie "Nothing."

Both the deputy and the outlaw turned towards the barman, who stood stiff and pale. Not the first time Vic had seen such a sight, probably not the last either.

"Uh... Sorry." Sawyer muttered, rubbing his ribs again.

Still no reply, the owner stood stone-faced, shaking a little bit.

"We'll just leave now, sir." Vic said calmly, walking towards Sawyer.

Vic nudged Sawyer and pushed him gently in the direction of the shutters. Sawyer stepped over the bodies, as did Vic, and quickly left through the shutters onto the deck outside the Saloon. The young, blood-covered outlaw stepped off of the deck and into the mud below, where the one remaining stranger was still trying to crawl away, dazed and perplexed after crashing through the window.

The Tumbleweed hunter followed closely behind. He shamefully shook his head when he saw all the lazy people of Valentine, who'd been sitting on their asses most of the day, finally get up just to watch the commotion. They were all standing at the edge of the wooden decks, yelling and shouting amongst themselves.

Vic shivered a little, the air still as cold as it was when he went into the saloon.

Still seeing no reason to unholster his revolver's again, and having been impressed so far, Vic let Sawyer do his thing.

"_Don't go anywhere!_" Sawyer shouted sarcastically, kicking the man as he crawled.

This goon was completely covered in mud after the fall and all the crawling. Even so, you could see the bloody redness amongst the dark browns and blacks, his face having been cut and slashed from the shards of glass he flew through.

Sawyer, for second time that day, found himself stood over a man who would beg him for mercy. The young, injured outlaw once again cocked the hammer of his Schofield and aimed it down, shoving the stranger onto his back with a boot.

"Those were your guys out there?" The young gun asked.

The stranger just panted heavily, his eyelids invisible among the dirt and sludge.

"Speak up... Or I'll force it outer you." Sawyer snarled, crouching down over him.

Vic took the time to observe the people around, on either side of the street, lighting up a cigarette while he did it. Some people would've surely interfered if not for the deputy's badge being on show.

With still no response, Sawyer then grabbed the stranger with one hand and pulled him up closer, "Roland Payne... Where is here?"

Suddenly that's when the defeated stranger finally opened his eyes. They were glazed over, still not fully aware of where they were, but were a perfect white against the black mud. Sawyer stared right back at him, Schofield pressed hard against the man's cheek.

Instead of talking, the man began laughing to himself. Loudly, everyone around could hear. It left Sawyer a little dumbfounded, was it just injuries? Or was this guy playing him on purpose? Sawyer wanted to know, because if these guys were O'Driscoll's too, they were sure sent by Roland too.

No matter the stare, no matter the threat, the man just kept laughing. It turned almost into an evil-sounding cackle. Sawyer felt himself getting more and more pissed as it went on. Then just as the young outlaw pulled back to hit him with the Schofield, Vic's arm reached over his shoulder and silenced the stranger with another bullet to the skull.

Sawyer was shook when it happened, sharply dropping the corpse and standing right up. He paced around, looking at the bystanders, the corpse and then finally back to Vic.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked, rightfully so.

"It was useless, kid. He was trying to _make_ you kill him." Vic replied calmly, puffing at his cigarette.

"We don't know that." Sawyer replied, wincing and confused.

"_I _know that. I've seen enough defeated villains in my time to know when they're practically begging you to off them."

Sawyer kept looking between Vic and the body, trying to make a bit of sense, holstering the revolver as he did it.

"Well what the fuck do we do now? We could've questioned him! Isn't that what you fuckers do?" Sawyer raised his voice before pointing at the saloon, "Hell you just got my full life story in there!"

Vic took another drag, "You were the _target_... At the time."

Sawyer took a second to listen and calm himself down.

"I needed info from you, kid. But him... We didn't need. I already got myself a lead on Payne earlier today."

"Oh yeah? And what lead's that?"

Vic gestured his hand down the street behind Sawyer, "The hotel. Barman told me that's where he stayed a few days back. Can't hurt to go take a look."

Sawyer glanced behind at the hotel. He'd never really thought of that place, his mind being too occupied on laying low when he'd arrived in town. But this was good, because it was finally a lead. Not much but a lot more than either of them of them had that morning.

Sawyer, now calm, nodded once to Vic who returned the gesture. They were both on the same page, something that seemed impossible a half hour earlier. Now they were both on the hunt. Together they looked around at the groups of onlookers until they all got back to minding their own business. Clearly the two were already a fear-inspiring sight. And after killing the stranger in what seemed like cold blood, Vic's reputation in town probably sank further into the mud.

After spending a few minutes thinking hard, not speaking a word to one another, Sawyer looked at Vic and pointed towards the hotel down the street. Vic agreed, finished his cigarette by stomping it in the damp dirt, and the two then set off to pursue their sole lead.


	8. Chapter VII

**CHAPTER VII**

**_VALENTINE, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900_**

'Saints Hotel', the main overnight stay of Valentine was so quiet and peaceful. You quickly forgot there was a filthy town full of equally filthy people on the other side of its gleaming oak door.

As Vic and Sawyer walked in, stomping their feet to rid their boots of thick mud, they were greeted by the manager stood behind the reception.

Very eye-catching, the building was clearly much prettier and better built than practically everywhere else in town. Everything was a beautiful shiny oak wood and even the wallpaper around the room was a sparkling blue. The only place as nice was probably the station, Vic thought. Sawyer on the other hand, having only ever slept in rough digs or in camps out in the open fields, found Saints Hotel a particularly glorious sight. Almost immediately, the young outlaw felt like paying up to stay there for at least one night just to experience it. Those thoughts went quickly though, as the young renegade exercised self-discipline and remembered he and his unlikely ally had a job to do.

Vic, doing _his_ job, observed the reception room and the manager as he instinctively did with everything else. The deputy judged the look and feel of his surroundings, along with the man who was watching him and his former target. The owner was wearing a smart, clean and fresh suit that he probably never took off, making its pristine quality that more impressive.

There were even a couple of big comfy sofa-like chairs in the corner, just as shiny as everything else in the room. They were probably there for visitors to have a rest but weren't staying there the whole night. Vic looked at them with a desire for just a split second.

As both men greeted the manager with weak nods, Sawyer faintly heard footsteps and muffled noises coming from directly above. It _was_ a hotel, so it could've been anyone, but the footsteps seemed a little too quick and frank for his liking. The young outlaw turned to Vic about it, but his older ally was already engaged.

"Howdy friend." Vic greeted the manager, arms resting on the counter.

"Afternoon, Deputy." Asked the spiffy manager, taking a note of the shiny badge, "What can I do for you? Is it a single room for two?"

Confused, brows low, both Vic and Sawyer glanced at one another and then back to the owner.

"No… It ain't" Said Sawyer, for both him and Vic.

The manager swallowed hard, "Oh, my apologies! We get all kinds in here, see."

Vic kept glaring as the manager chuckled apologetically, awkwardly patting down his suit to make sure it was creaseless.

"Well oddly enough, that's why we've came here, sir." Vic replied, "Hearing 'bout the kinds of folks you get coming through here."

"Is it somebody you're looking for?" The manager asked, curiously leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"Somebody who stayed here. Not too long back… Maybe a few days?" Sawyer said, entering the conversation.

The manager looked away from the young outlaw and the older deputy to think to himself for a short time. Valentine wasn't the most pleasant town to be in, but the hotel had a lot of people stopping by on the daily. Whether it was for a bed, one of the women, or a bath _from_ one of the women didn't matter, his clientele wasn't small.

"Details on the person?" He asked, needing more.

Vic himself then turned to Sawyer; the only man present who was able to describe Roland Payne.

"Tall. About six-foot six. Bald like he never had hair. Big beard going down the neck. Hard to even look in the eye." Sawyer told the manager from vivid images.

Even Vic was intrigued, getting more info and knowledge on who exactly he was on the trail of. The more the deputy heard, the more strangely eager he became to come face to face with Payne. The tales he'd heard from people made him out to be about as dangerous as a grizzly.

"Does ring a bell, I must say." The manager said, rubbing his chin, "Doesn't speak much?"

Sawyer's head shook, "Hardly ever a fucking word."

"I guess the best thing to ask now is for his name?" The manager asked, reaching below the counter.

Vic's eyes never left the manager as he slumped down and even Sawyer put palm to holster, but both men eased up when the manager brought out just a book. A leather-bound manual-looking book. Bigger than the average history book, clearly.

"I get every customer who stays for any kinda service to sign their name in here." Said the hotel owner, pointing down on the leather.

"Roland Payne. That's the name you're looking for." Vic stated calmly and clearly.

The manager did a double-take at Vic, "I've heard that name. Quite a lot actually."

"Yeah well he's gettin' famous around these parts." Sawyer replied, with clear knowledge of the man of topic.

After an odd glance at Sawyer, the manager opened up the book to take a look at the names written within the last few days. Some had just put their surname with the first's initial. Wasn't often that customers jotted down their full names. Anyone staying at Saints Hotel must've been fairly security conscious, which said a lot about the sorts of people that must've taken a bed there for the night.

"I'm not seeing that name, deputy." The manager said with a slight grimace.

Vic and Sawyer took a look themselves when the owner span the leather book around and pushed it to over to them. Sawyer then heard the creeks and thumps from the ceiling again before turning back to the journal.

All pages were of a nice quality paper that seemed a shame to write on. They were a nice beige colour and really smooth. The pencil markings on top of them were almost a complete irritation to the eye.

"_M. Warren… S. Morse… S. Adler… _Doesn't look like he's been here, kid." Vic said to Sawyer with a sigh, reaching for a cigarette.

"Nah, give me a look here." Sawyer replied bluntly, almost snatching the book away.

Sawyer had seen Roland write things down before. He had the handwriting of an delinquent. The young outlaw had actually _seen_ some kids' writing that was easier to read. He glanced down the pages to spot the one that may have been written by his former partner.

Sawyer landed his finger, "Got him!"

Vic stopped just as he was about to light the match, taking a look at the name that the kid was pointing at.

"_B. Smith…_ That's him." Sawyer said, as sure as anything.

"How can you tell?" Vic asked, the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"The handwriting. I've seen him pencilling words down on paper before. It's fucking garbage, hardly readable." Sawyer explained to the deputy, "And he's using the most basic fucking name in the land. Trying to lay low, obviously. That's the one, I'm telling ya."

Vic took a closer look with squinted eyes, "June 4th. Room 2b. Paid $1.25. What's that for?"

The manager looked at Vic from Sawyer again, "That's one night and one bath."

Sawyer got confused at such a revelation. In his whole time with Roland, the guy had never taken a bath anywhere. He was so preoccupied with killing, robbing and raiding that hygiene was the last thing on his ever-active mind.

"Could the bath have been somethin' else?" The young outlaw asked.

"I suppose it could've been for another service from one of the women?" The manager theorised.

As bad as it was, _that_ sounded more like Roland, Sawyer thought.

"In that case, I got another question for ya." Sawyer started, frowning.

"Of course."

"Any of the girls in here… Been hurt or anything recently? Maybe 'round the time _B. Smith_ was here on the fourth of June?" Sawyer finished, grimly.

The hotel owner's face dropped like the O'Driscoll's both men had shot earlier. He suddenly scowled, like what Sawyer said had touched some sort of nerve.

"As a matter o'fact, yes. That next morning… Angie, one of the women, went to see the town doctor for her nose and mouth. Both had been beaten in." Told the owner, his eyes elsewhere.

Sawyer turned to Vic, who looked at him with confidence. The outlaw nodded with certainty.

"Alright then, we're thinking this is the man we're after." Vic told the manager, finally lighting the match and the edge of the cigarette.

"Who exactly _was_ this man?"

"A _wanted_ man, sir. Roland Payne's been on the run from West Elizabeth for a couple weeks now." Vic explained, exhaling the smoke.

The manager turned to Sawyer, "Yeah that rings more of a bell… Wasn't he the marauder who was always riding alongside a younger guy?"

Vic turned to the kid and then right back to the owner, "That might be true, but we're here looking for just Payne, sir."

Sawyer and the owner exchanged knowing glances at one another. Probably the first time he was grateful that Vic's badge was there on show.

"Sir!" Vic snatched the owner's attention again, "Might we have a look up in Room 2b? We need to know where this man was headed. Order of the law."

The manager was quiet again, still looking at Sawyer at every chance, "Of course, deputy. Anything you need. Would you like me to bring down Angie? Maybe she could answer some questions."

Vic was already at the stairs, "I'll let you know on that. We'll glance through the room first."

"Is there anyone occupying Room 2b, sir?" Sawyer asked, following Vic.

Again, an awkward exchange of eyes between the owner and the outlaw. The former not knowing what to make of the sight he was seeing.

"Not today, no." He finally replied, giving Vic and Sawyer the green light.

At the top of the shiny oak staircase there was a long corridor going left and right. A big extravagant table stood right at the top holding a vase of flowers on it. It was strange that even the corridor of this hotel looked posher than anywhere else in New Hanover.

All of the doors down the long hall were equally as perfect as the building's main one. However, these doors were numbered, giving Vic and Sawyer no confusion as to where to go.

As Vic stood smoking his cigarette, Sawyer turned left to see the door to Room 2c, where the muffled sounds and noises were coming from. It had been bothering him ever since they'd walked in and now he wanted to take a look.

"I'm gonna check that room." Sawyer pointed, whispering.

Vic exhaled the cloud again, "Why?"

"It sounds like somethings' going on in there. Something strange."

Vic shrugged, "Knock yourself out, kid. But I'm gonna go check 2b, you know, the one we're here to check."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." Sawyer said sternly, wanting Vic to be patient.

The young outlaw felt his gun's handle in his palm as he approached the big brown door to Room 2c and lent closer to listen across it.

_Want me to hurt ya?!_ Sawyer heard a man shout. _You can't hurt me, you don't got it in ya! _Replied somebody else, a woman this time.

Sawyer turned sideways to Vic before unholstering his Schofield and turning the door's knob.

Both the man and the woman were stunned when the young, freshly shaven Sawyer barged through the door and brandished the gun. They were both naked, with the woman carefully positioned over the bottom of the bed's wooden frame. The fella was stood right behind her, pressed hard against her rear end, holding a tight grip of her long brown hair. They must've been in their fifties, at least according to Sawyer's young shocked eyes.

"_What the fuck are doing?!" _The man shouted, stood as stiff as his dick probably had been seconds earlier.

Sawyer's mouth was agape, not knowing at all what to say. His suspicions of what was going on clearly had had the wrong idea.

"_GET OUT!"_ The woman then screamed.

Sawyer lowered the gun to almost the same place as his lower jaw. He started back away slowly when Vic grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Ma'am, sir, do take my apologies." Vic said without looking at the couple, dragging Sawyer away.

Neither the man or the woman's eyes blinked as the two strangers quickly departed the room and slammed the door shut again.

Out in the corridor, Vic pushed Sawyer hard across the landing and away from Room 2c.

"What the fuck, kid?"

"I thought… You know, I just had this feeling…"

"How's this? From here on out, you leave any investigative thoughts to me, huh?" Vic glared, "Sure we're in this hunt together and you wanna do your part, but for now, just follow my lead, yeah?"

Sawyer had a response but quickly threw it away. Instead the younger man raised his hands and nodded once in agreement.

"Lead the way. I'm sorry." Sawyer stated, looking out one of the landing windows.

In Room 2b, shutting the door behind them, Vic and Sawyer found the place a complete wreck. The room's courteous table and chair were down and across the floor. The rug was kicked in the corner, bed was unmade and even had some drops of blood on it, dried and dark. Even the mirror above the fireplace was smashed.

"Yeah, this was his room." Sawyer said, his tone bleak, glancing at his surroundings.

Vic listened to Sawyer and walked over to the table, picking it up and putting it back in its place. Sawyer looked over the bed at the bloodstains, almost definitely not Roland's.

"Take a look around, in the draws and shit." Sawyer told Vic, almost like an order.

"Why exactly? Was he the type to leave breadcrumbs laying 'round?" Vic asked, debating another cigarette.

"Not on _purpose_, but he did tend to do a lot of shit without thinking."

Vic decided against the smoke and did what his young ally suggested. The room had two bedside table's and a big wardrobe, both again as flashy as every other piece of furniture in the building.

Sawyer opened the draws of one of the tables and found a half-smoked cigar. The young outlaw thought long and hard if that was Payne's until he found in the second draw an almost fully drank bottle of Bourbon. That's when he knew.

"This adds up to the beating he gave on the girl." Sawyer told Vic, holding up both the bottle and cigar.

"From the stories I heard, he don't need none of that shit to give a beating." Vic replied, opening the wardrobe doors.

"Nah, he don't need 'em. But they make the beatings worse, I tell you that." Sawyer revealed.

"Had he drank some of that stuff when he gave you that bruise?"

"No." Sawyer replied, saying a lot about Payne with just a single word.

Vic rummaged through the wardrobe, finding nothing. The only place left to search was the draws at the bottom. Vic opened the top draw, finding a tub of hair pomade and a brush. Clearly not Payne's if his description was anything to go by.

"This is a waste of time, kid. He ain't gonna have left noth'n of any value." Vic said with another long sigh.

Sawyer stood looking out the window at the dirty street of Valentine. The sun was starting to go down on the horizon across the fields, turning the sky a reddish orange. Time was running out that day and the more time the two of them lost, the further away Roland was getting.

In the second draw of the wardrobe, Vic found nothing but extra bed sheets. He gave the wardrobe a whack with his fist in frustration. The idea of coming all this way from New Austin, so far for nothing, was starting to get to the usually cool-headed maverick.

"What the _fuck_ do we do now?" Vic asked Sawyer.

"Again, you're asking _me_? I'm following your lead, remember Vic?" Sawyer replied.

Vic ran his hands through his black hair in irritation before picking up the chair, placing it in it's spot and sitting down.

"Did you and him have any plans at all? Where you were headed? Stuff like that?"

Sawyer, still gazing out the window, shook his head "Not really, by that point our plan was to just not get caught by the fucking Marshall's."

"Well, we gotta think of something fast, kid. 'Cause that manager down there, he knows exactly who you are." Vic said, pointing to the floor.

The younger man sighed, forehead leaning on the glass, "Yeah, I got that feeling myself. I'm thinking hard, deputy. Believe me."

Vic sat in the room and Sawyer stood. Both silent. Nothing to go on other than a mess, which Roland left pretty much everywhere he went. Both men were at a loss and didn't want to admit to themselves that they were already starting to think they'd lost the son of a bitch.

"Hold on a second." Sawyer said suddenly.

Vic turned a little, "Yeah?"

Sawyer remembered, back out in The Heartlands, when he got attacked by the O'Driscoll's alone and killed the Irishman. That cowardly idiot had told the young outlaw something that he hadn't really thought about up until that point.

"When I got held up by the O'Driscoll's out there. On my own." Sawyer turned to Vic, "The leader of 'em, he was Irish. As pure an O'Driscoll as you get. He told me that Roland came here to Valentine… And then _further north_ afterwards."

Vic then looked up at Sawyer, "Further north? Where exactly?"

"Didn't say anything _that_ specific. Just that Roland came to Valentine and then was gonna go further north of here."

"Well kid you know this area better than I do. So, tell me, what do you know is further north?"

The young outlaw thought hard, "There's the Cumberland Forest. And then there's Fort Wallace, but I would lay money more on Payne having a camp set up in the forest rather than being anywhere close to the fucking Army."

Vic took out another cigarette, "Okay, so you're thinking he's in this... 'Cumberland Forest'?"

"Well it's as good a theory as any. You got anything better, _Deputy?_"

Vic shot Sawyer a deadly glare, "Easy. We're after the same thing here, Sawyer."

Sawyer let out a painful sigh and turned back to the window, rubbing his ribs again. The pain kept disappearing for short times and then kept coming back to remind him who was boss.

"There was someone else here I think we should talk to, though." Vic abruptly thought, dragging the ember.

Sawyer noticed something down below, just on the street outside the building. Another pack of goons. They were standing over the body that he and Vic had left in the dirt.

"He struck me as odd the moment I got into town." Vic continued.

"Vic, shut up. We got a problem here." Sawyer whispered.

Vic took a puff and then stood up to look out the window too. The deputy and the outlaw saw the O'Driscoll's, wearing the same dark trench coats and looking just as scruffy as the last ones. Some resident they were talking to pointed towards the hotel, where they immediately started heading towards.

"Ah, shit! How many of these cocksuckers are there?!" Vic asked, raising his voice and pulling out his LeMat's.

"No fucking clue, but they're on _his_ payroll, that much I know. Now they're gonna be after you too." Sawyer replied quickly, equipping his Hunting Shotgun and pumping it.

"Yeah well, they can join the fucking line." Vic stated, cocking both hammers of both LeMat's.

As the deputy stormed towards the door, it suddenly flew open and smashed into his face, cracking the nose and splitting a lip hard. As he floundered around, dazed and stunned, his vision all over the place, the Tumbleweed lawman tried to focus and see who was who.

_Vic! Get down!_ He heard the kid shout, but he wanted to help, so instead of getting down, the maverick deputy aimed his guns to shoot, only to feel somebody spear him to the ground and whip him over the head with something solid.

Sawyer aimed his shotgun at the scumbag that just knocked Vic out with the butt of a rifle, but before he could shoot, another three guys entered the room. All pointing revolvers and shotguns themselves.

The younger kid aimed his shotgun at them for as long as his guts would let him. When he finally realised none of them had fired a bullet yet, he understood what was happening and put up his hands.

"You got us." Sawyer relented, dropping the shotgun.

"You're goddamn right, boy." One O'Drsicoll growled through about three teeth, "You two are comin' with us."


	9. Chapter VIII

**CHAPTER VIII**

**_CUMBERLAND FOREST, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900_**

The sun had completely gone by the time they were all deep in the bush. Cumberland Forest was an enormous labyrinth of giant oak-trees, shrubs, rocks and hills, with a river flowing at the other end that came all the way from Flat Iron Lake. If you didn't run into people hunting prey, you ran into the very prey those people were hunting. Cumberland Forest was awash with cougars, wolves, snakes and even Grizzly's now and then. It was during broad daylight when the forest showed its true beauty, but any time after sundown it became a rather treacherous area.

Within the thick density of shrubs and grass, it was hard to make out which direction they were heading in. Sawyer and Vic were both hogtied by their hands and feet, sat in the back of a wooden horse-carriage which was struggling to make its way through the darkness on a bumpy dirt-path. The only sources of light were the lanterns most of the O'Driscoll's were carrying with them, all of which were trying to be breached by the moths and tiny flies that infested the area.

Vic was still unconscious from the blow to the head in Valentine, so Sawyer sat closely to him to make sure that _when_ he awoke, he awoke the right way and didn't cause any unwanted trouble.

The young renegade couldn't say he was unhappy to leave Valentine behind, its dirty and stinking streets something he was pleased to forget, he just wished he could've left on his own terms. Once again, choices were taken away from Sawyer. And yet again, mostly because of Roland Payne.

_Not much further! _He heard once of the goons up ahead shout.

There must've been six to seven O'Driscoll's around the carriage they were sat in. Two up on deck holding the reins, another two on each side riding horses and Sawyer was sure there was one more upfront, riding ahead of everyone. They were heavily outnumbered and outgunned given the circumstances, which was why the young outlaw had given up back in the hotel. Now he wasn't entirely sure where he and his unlikely ally were being taken, but there was a small chance it could be to Roland, which was enough for him to come quietly.

Another few minutes dragged by, darkness still the dominant force of the forest with the ride getting even bumpier when the cart clearly left the dirt-path, heading further into the trees. It was then that Vic was finally nudged awake, for the second time that day.

The Tumbleweed Deputy's head was thumping as he jolted up, naturally going for his guns which weren't there, grunting and yelling in confusion.

"Hey, easy!" Sawyer whispered, patting Vic on the shoulder.

Vic shook his head and rubbed his eyes, realising his hands were bound. He looked at Sawyer and then took note of the surroundings, little of which he could really see.

"We're in the Cumberland Forest, Vic." Sawyer explained, thinking it was what the lawman needed.

After catching his breath, noticing the surrounding O'Driscoll's give scowls and filthy looks now that he was awake, Vic tried to move but noticed the lasso around his feet too.

"How'd this fucking happen?" Vic asked, his voice angry but low.

"In that hotel, you got knocked out." Sawyer said, sitting closer, "I had to drop my gun otherwise I'd be a dead man."

Vic closed his eyes to relax his head, "Jesus… So, where we bein' dragged to?"

Sawyer looked around again, still seeing nothing but the lanterns and the few things they illuminated.

"Well my guess is to Roland himself… Which is why I let 'em take us. Could be our chance here." Sawyer replied quietly with such eagerness and almost a hint of excitement.

Vic felt a little pain from his nose, which he quickly realised was slightly bruised and swollen from the hotel room door that sent him into oblivion. Alongside that, his head still felt like there was a hot poker going through it. The deputy had definitely felt better.

"Where's our fucking guns?" Vic asked.

"One of these guy's got 'em. Nothin' we can do right now, deputy." Sawyer explained, sighing with boredom.

The younger man sat back against the rough wood of the carriage, his ribs still aching with pain with every nudge and bump from the ride. Vic sat beside him, head in his forearms, thanks to the rope. The forest became quieter and quieter as they were taken deeper into the woods, just the sounds of small critters and bigger ones far off in the distance to break the silence. That and the occasional grunt and spit from one of the ugly bastards who had them in the cart.

Vic eventually looked up to let the cold air on his face, "You thought've any plans while I've been out?"

Sawyer didn't know how to answer, because he really hadn't given it much thought. The idea of getting to Roland was what had driven him here, but his vengeful mind thought only that it could be the chance to kill him. Not much thought had went on anything else that could get in their way. He wouldn't admit it to Vic, but Sawyer had wanted the deputy awake in order to actually make a plan.

"I was thinkin'… Maybe just improvise?" Sawyer asked with a wince, "Sorta… Make it up as we go?"

Vic turned, Sawyer could feel his glare even in the dark, "You've thought've nothin' have you?"

Sawyer shook his head, hoping the lack of light would make it unnoticeable, but he was mistaken.

"Fuck me… This ain't ever gonna work." Vic groaned.

"Hey, I ain't the one that got taken out by a goddamn door." Sawyer replied with spite.

"It wasn't the door that knocked me out."

"No… It was yourself."

Vic turned again, "What's that mean, kid?"

"If you hadn't stormed to the door, all guns at the ready, maybe the door wouldn't have hit ya. Then you might've been awake enough to fucking help me form some sorta plan on what to do."

Vic found he was a loss for words, being told off by a younger kid. Not the first time, but definitely the first time it had actually hit him a little.

"So, calm the fuck down, Deputy. Don't get up my ass because of the situation _neither_ of us really caused, okay?" Firmly stated the young outlaw, a fire burning inside.

Vic's deadly glare at his younger ally soon formed into another smirk, "Alright, whatever you say, kid."

The deputy then wanted a smoke, but quickly remembered that all of his belongings had been taken, which made him a little extra cranky.

"Just one question… We are gonna kill these motherfuckers, right?" Vic asked of his young companion.

Sawyer scoffed, "Does a whores legs spread?"

Another few long minutes in the cart went by when the two prisoners saw a new light within the darkness. Across the tree-trunks, branches and bushes it was bigger than the lanterns being carried. A further few yards and it became clear it was a campfire, with pieces of wood and piles of rocks placed around the tall, active flame.

Vic checked the place out as best he could. Around the campfire he noticed a big log, on the other side there was a small tent with some wooden crates next to it. Mainly the fire was in front of a small decrepit cabin. Clearly it was a little O'Driscoll hideout, and as Sawyer had said, maybe even Roland Payne's current hideout too.

Sawyer couldn't tell yet if his hunch was right. It looked like any other camp out in the plains of New Hanover. Nothing yet really told it apart from any other. For a minute he even thought he and Vic were being taken there by the O'Driscoll's to be executed for some sick fun. But then again, sick fun was Roland's game, and they were still playing it.

_Get 'em over there_, one of the O'Driscoll's ordered of his friend, pointing towards the campfire's log.

Vic and Sawyer couldn't do anything but watch and listen, making a break for it now was complete and utter suicide. They couldn't run thanks to the ropes around the feet and couldn't fight because their hands were also bound.

One of the goons, a particularly stinking one, grabbed Sawyer by the scuff and started dragging him out of the back of the horse-cart. Every pull and shove irritated the young outlaw's ribs, which also took away any breath.

"Easy!" Sawyer shouted, a completely useless plea.

The O'Driscoll hoisted him up over his shoulder and carried him off. The pressure of the goon's shoulder into Sawyer's abdomen would've made it impossible to slip away even if he wasn't hogtied. Pain was overpowering everything from the chest to his waist.

When the next O'Driscoll henchman got to the carriage and looked at Vic, he hesitated for a second.

"You best fucking drag me." Vic growled.

The raider looked to one of his buddies and requested a little help. Both the ugly, filthy men dragged Vic out of the cart and threw him into the dirt. The deputy couldn't move due to the binds, forced to just breath in the dirt and dust, coughing it right back up in the process until they finally pulled him to his knees.

"Come on, hurry your asses up!" Shouted the tallest member, seemingly the leader of the small gang.

Just as Sawyer was dropped next to the log, retching up a storm thanks to the sudden burst of pain, Vic was snatched by either side of the shirt's shoulders and dragged across dirt towards the same spot. The maverick lawman's white shirt was now practically brown, with even his badge getting scratched and dirtied.

Once Vic was thrown next to his younger comrade, one of the O'Driscoll's gave him a hard kick into his back. It launched him forward, face first into the dirt once more. Clearly and rather predictably, they weren't a fan of the law.

Vic laughed a concoction of pain and anger, which only served to provoke the marauders even more. The same one that had swung the boot soon pulled out a big hunting knife and crouched right in front of Vic.

"I'll take that smile right off'a your face." He sneered, holding the blade close to the lawman's cheek.

Vic smirked again, opened his mouth to speak and then surprised the raider with a hard headbutt right to the nose. It cracked the bridge instantly, sending blood down and around the ugly man's mouth as he yelled out in pain, stumbling about with his eyes clenched shut.

"_MOTHERFUCKER!"_ He yelled out in painful fury.

One of the other's actually laughed, "He gotcha there!"

"Get yourself together, you fucking idiot!" Shouted the apparent boss.

After a few more seconds, the man who's nose Vic had broken finally opened his now watery eyes, blood leaking across the cheeks and down to the chin. He sheaved the knife and pulled out a Volcanic Pistol, cocking the hammer and aiming at Vic as he did it.

"I'll kill you… Damn fucking pig!" He growled in pure anger, not wanting to let his pride be so squashed.

_Put that fucking gun down!_ Roared a different voice.

The embarrassed O'Driscoll stopped instantly, all anger turning to dust and his injured face dropping. All six others also froze, turning towards the broken-down cabin a few feet away from the campfire.

Vic was confused yet intrigued, but Sawyer sat as still as the oak-trees all around. The voice all too familiar.

Soon what would class as the cabin's door soon swung open with a bang, and out walked Roland Payne. At first, he was just a silhouette to the two captives, having to duck just to exit the wooden structure that he was almost as tall as. While Sawyer saw exactly what he remembered, Vic was finally feasting his eyes on the target he was there for.

Payne walked further towards the campfire, which finally illuminated him completely. Built like a stocky grizzly bear, with the eyes of a cougar that had never slept, he certainly lived up to the stories and tales told from there all the way back to Tumbleweed. Every step he took towards the fire had made an intimidating thud on the gravel. Payne had dried blood on his ragged beige shirt and even some across his face and beard.

"Well… I'll be damned." He said, his voice still the deep and gnarly one that Sawyer recognised.

The young renegade couldn't look up. Not yet. The whole situation didn't feel completely real to him. Instead he decided to stare at the ground he was kneeling on, feeling the hotness of the fire on his back, causing a second layer of sweat.

Vic on the other hand, _did_ keep his eyes on Payne. He was observing his target just as much as he was reading him. Already the deputy was thinking up ways on how he would take down such a beast of a man. In all his years as a lawman, he could not remember encountering a bigger, more grim looking individual.

"That you, boy?" He said, his voice loud but not even shouting.

Sawyer didn't respond.

Payne sneered with his rotten teeth, "I don't remember ripping out your tongue."

Vic watched in the corner of his eyes to the right as Payne approached Sawyer, like a wolf stalking its next meal.

"Look at me." Payne said quietly to the kid.

Sawyer still didn't reply or look up from the ground.

"_SPEAK WHEN YOU'RE SPOKEN TO!_" Roland exploded, crouching and clutching Sawyer by the lower jaw, forcing the outlaw to look him in the eyes.

Everyone else around, including Vic couldn't help but just be quiet and let it play out. The Tumbleweed Deputy thought of any possible way to get him and Sawyer outer the hole they were stuck in. As it stood, nothing was coming to mind.

Sawyer's already bruised face felt like it was about to pop with the pressure of Roland's hand getting tighter and tighter around his jaw. All he could do was stare into the eyes of his former companion. Even his eyes had gotten worse since their last encounter. They were even redder around the edges, looking as if they were sore from lack of sleep. They'd even sunken further into his head in the days since. And yet, the wanted beast didn't even seem to blink at any point.

"Yeah that's right… Look at me you little shitstick…" Payne said quietly, his breath actually dampening the young outlaws face.

Sawyer still hadn't tried to speak. He didn't even really want to, now that he expected death to come sooner than later.

"Tougher than I remember, getting all that way from where I left ya." Payne whispered, his hand still tight on Sawyer's jaw, "But what'd you do, huh? Instead of comin' straight after me, you go rat out to the goddamn law?"

"Wasn't the case, asshole." Vic suddenly spoke up.

Roland turned his head to Vic in a flash. Sawyer then felt relieved when the grasp of Payne's hand let go.

Payne, still crouching down, moved closer to the deputy. The big man inspected the badge and then gave Vic the same cold and evil stare that he had given his former outlaw partner. Unlike Sawyer however, Vic returned the eyes without fear, not blinking or flinching for a moment.

"What was that? What'd you call me?" Roland asked firmly, wanting Vic to repeat what he had said.

Vic kept the stare for a moment, "What're you deaf?"

That response caused Roland to clench his teeth with anger, his face turning a little red. Even in the night's darkness, Vic could see it.

The O'Driscoll with the broken nose then chose to aim his Volcanic at the back of Vic's head again.

"Want me to kill this cocksucker, Roland?!" He asked, yelling while still clutching his face.

Roland's attention was snatched away from Vic, which he wasn't all too pleased about. The unhinged fugitive responded to his henchman by aiming his own Double-Action Revolver right at him. The O'Driscoll froze like a statue, confused and scared. By trying to defend Payne, he'd crossed him. Something only Sawyer could really relate to.

"You say one more fucking word… Or wave that gun around again… And I'll cook your face on that goddamn fire." Said the beast, through gritted brown teeth.

Shaking and afraid, the O'Driscoll quickly lowered the gun and instinctively moved slightly away from the campfire. Soon, Roland turned his corpse-like eyes back to Vic.

"Who the hell _are_ you, anyway? And what you doing with this little pissant?" Asked Payne, pointing to Sawyer.

Vic looked at Sawyer and then back to Roland, "Name's Vic Noble, Deputy from New Austin. Me and him, we're both looking for _you_. You're obviously Roland Payne."

Roland listened carefully, his eyes squinting for once.

"I gotta say, boy." Vic looked Roland up and down, "Ain't impressed."

Sawyer, his head still down, tightened his eyes. Vic didn't understand who he was provoking, and he wished he could've told him that. But he still dared not speak.

Payne smiled again, this time licking the corner of his bearded mouth, "New Austin, huh? That's a long way to go just to try and bring me in."

"Who said anything about _bringing _you in?"

Payne stared at Vic again before abruptly clutching him by the throat. The lawman didn't see it coming, so it took him by a surprise. Payne pushed Vic onto his back and kept adding pressure to his wind-pipe.

As Vic tried to breathe, coughing and gagging as much as he could, Payne snarled with enjoyment. At one-point the monster even drooled from his mouth without even realising. The strength of his grip and the powerful weight of his body actually frightened Vic, who's vision started to fade a little.

Sawyer watched painfully, and finally knew he had to do something to help.

"Real fucking impressive, Roland!" Sawyer shouted, without looking.

The O'Driscoll's nearby all looked at the young outlaw again. What he said had actually caused Payne to stop what he was doing again.

Releasing Vic's throat, Roland moved back up to face the kid. The Tumbleweed deputy however stayed down, gasping for air the second he was able to.

"That voice… Still fucking irritating." Said the evil outlaw.

"Likewise." Sawyer replied.

"Impressive? That what you said, boy?"

"Damn right. It's good to see you've stepped your game up again from helpless women and children."

Payne grinned to himself with wide eyes, "That was on _you_, Sawyer."

That hurt. Even caused the kid to look at the ground again.

"What was the plan then, huh?" Payne asked, "Go rat me out to these fucking Marshall cocksuckers, then come to watch me hang?"

"No… It's just time, Roland." Sawyer sighed, still looking down.

"Time?"

"Yeah, it's time." The young outlaw finally looked up again, "Time for you to get in the fucking ground, right where you should'a been a long time before now."

Payne's smirk dropped and turned into deep frown. Sawyer then took a hard slap across the cheek, so fast it was like Payne's arm didn't move.

"And who's gonna do that then, huh?" Payne said, quickly with anger, "You? Don't make me fucking laugh, you know I don't like laughing."

Sawyer grinned himself, "Could be me. Could be my friend here. But believe me, Roland… You're already dead. You're walking in a pair of a dead man's boots."

Payne listened and for once seemed genuinely hit by what he'd been told. He looked at Sawyer with wonder, confused as to whether the blow to the face he gave him days before had changed him into somebody else.

The two stared at each other with equal contempt and resentment for a time that seemed like an age. Even the sounds of Vic still breathing heavy and the crackles of the campfire were drowned out by pure hatred.

"You know… I'd love to just kill you right here and now, boy." Payne whispered before grabbing Sawyer by the head with both hands, "But I want to see you try! Try and do what you're tellin' me!"

Vic had finally caught his breath and was laying on his back, watching closely.

"Here's what's gonna happen, Sawyer… I'm gonna get on my horse and get outer here, because me and my boys here we got a job to do." Payne said, his voice rasping with anger, "I'm gonna have the one's who stay behind scalp your little Marshall buddy there… And then they're gonna break your leg. Because I wanna know that you're still out there… Crawling to get to me, trying with every little bit of pathetic energy you have to find me."

Sawyer, face still clasped by Payne's hands, smirked again, "Why? You forgotten how to kill?"

Payne let one hand go of Sawyer, unholstered his Double-Action again and shot the O'Driscoll with the broken nose directly in the forehead. His body hit the floor with such a thud that his peers had to waft away the dust. Vic managed to get back to his knees and looked on at what Roland had done with such bewilderment and shock, as did the other goons. The only man that hadn't flinched at the Payne's actions was Sawyer himself.

"Thanks." Sawyer whispered, "That's one less for us to worry about."

Payne smiled once more time, "Do your best, boy. I wanna fucking see it."

Sawyer was thrown backwards to the dirt hard by Payne who then stood back to his feet and walked away from both him and Vic. The Tumbleweed Deputy was a weird mixture of pissed-off and stunned. Not since his early days as a lawman had he been that intimidated by a target. The tales all carried truth, Roland Payne was a physical demon, not to be taken lightly in any way.

"How's the neck?" Sawyer asked quietly, managing to get back to his knees again.

"Not broken, so good I'd say. Thanks, kid." Vic replied, grateful for Sawyer's actions.

Any and all doubt in Vic's mind about Sawyer's allegiance was now gone. As he was being throttled, the kid had stepped in to save him. The deputy had watched and listened as Payne proved his hatred towards Sawyer, going as far as to let him live just to know he would be suffering. There was no wonder left as to how the stories of Roland Payne had managed to spread all the way to the furthest corners of New Austin. The man was completely deranged.

"What're we gonna do, Vic?" Sawyer asked the deputy, his eyes still fixed on Roland.

Vic didn't have a response right away, so got to thinking fast. One thing that finally stuck out in his mind was that these O'Driscoll's had, very stupidly, tied his and Sawyer's hands together, but at the front.

"Our hands." Vic whispered, "The ropes."

Sawyer looked down at his binds and back to Vic with a puzzled face.

"We could choke 'em?" Vic said with a little mental exhaustion.

After a moment of silent consideration, Sawyer gestured a thumb to Vic before noticing Roland and one of the O'Driscoll's chatting next to bald man's horse. It was still as rough and deadly looking as he was. Its eyes were still a pinkish-red and its hair was still patchy and unkempt.

_You'll get your fucking money once you help me,_ Roland said.

There voices were far away but close enough to hear as long as Sawyer and Vic paid full attention.

_You asked for the kid, we got him, _dared reply the goon.

_And now you help me break the bank, _Roland growled, almost an order.

"Bank?" Sawyer said aloud to both Vic and himself, very quietly.

_You round up whatever fuckheads you got and we break that place open, _Payne said, his finger hitting the O'Driscoll's chest.

_I ain't your errand boy, _replied the raider just as Roland was about to step into the stirrups.

Payne grabbed the O'Driscoll's jacket with both hands and pulled him close, almost nose to nose.

_You're exactly what I say you are, boy. Understand me?_ Roland said again.

No response, nothing to say, the O'Driscoll just nodded quickly, giving up. Roland sharply let him go and climbed up into the saddle.

"You two!" The O'Driscoll boss then shouted, pointing at a duo of his men, "You follow this man! Do exactly as he says!"

Quickly and without question, the other two O'Driscoll heavies unhitched their horses, saddled up and trotted over to Roland. This left only four trenchcoated scumbags to watch over the two bound captives.

"Make sure the pig don't leave this place!" Roland ordered before pointing to Sawyer, "And make damn sure he lives… But wishes he were dead."

Sawyer gave Payne one finally look of death, but didn't know whether it was returned or not, now that the wanted man was again a hulking silhouette.

Both Roland and the two O'Driscoll's then galloped off away from the scene, the sounds of their horses on the ground getting fainter and fainter as the seconds went by.

As the next ten to fifteen minutes crawled by, Vic and Sawyer were still on their knees next to the campfire, which was starting to getting smaller as it hadn't been tended to for some time. The remaining O'Driscoll's had started gathering their stuff from the tent and the cabin, obviously wanting to leave their two captives until last.

Alongside the twinges in his ribs, Sawyer's knees were also starting to ache. He was waiting for the right opportunity to make a move, as was Vic. But neither had seen what they were waiting for yet. They couldn't even communicate any longer as there was _one _ugly raider still keeping close watch, sitting on the log across from them, spitting on the dying fire. In his hand he was wielding the Volcanic pistol that he'd picked up from his dead buddy.

Eventually, the others had finally slung the burlap sacks onto their horses and hooked them to the saddle horns.

"Come on then, let's get this over with." Said the watching O'Driscoll, now standing up.

Vic looked at him with a newfound sense of worry, a feeling he hadn't had for as long as he could remember. The Tumbleweed Deputy wasn't allowed to live. He was the one who had to die. Now Vic was facing the idea of coming all the way from home for absolutely nothing. Faced with death.

"Stay still, I'll make it quick." The O'Driscoll said nonchalantly.

Vic started to shake a little, he even turned sharply to Sawyer, expecting the young outlaw to be able to do _something_. All his comrade could do was watch with equally wide eyes.

None of the other raiders were even watching, one of which had already got onto his horse, making sure the sacks were strapped tight enough.

Vic had to say _something_, he had to offer them _something_, he thought. But even in the face of death, Vic's pride wouldn't seem to budge.

The maverick lawman waited as the O'Driscoll stepped behind him, hearing the Volcanic pistol cock its hammer.

Then there was a strange sound. Like a clap in the wind followed by a funny squelch. No gunshot had went off. Vic and Sawyer were puzzled just as damn much as the O'Driscoll's across the camp.

Both the deputy and the outlaw turned to the former's executioner and saw an arrow had punctured straight through his left eye. In a matter of milliseconds, the gun had dropped to the ground and the body with it.

"_AMBUSH!"_ Roared the O'Driscoll on horseback.

In a blind panic, the three living marauders scrambled around in the ever-growing darkness, waving their weapons at the trees and shrubs around them to find where the arrow had came from.

Vic had thrown himself fully onto the floor by instinct after seeing the arrow. He then quickly noticed the loaded Volcanic pistol.

"Sawyer!" He yelled.

As the young outlaw looked, Vic kicked the gun across to him and he took it fast, pulling the hammer back again.

Sawyer pointed the gun as fast as he could, while maintaining good aim. He fired, shooting one of the O'Driscoll's in the top of their spine, sending him flying dead onto his face. With that, the remaining two noticed Sawyer was armed and aimed their rifle and revolver respectively at their captive. Sawyer quickly pulled the trigger first, hitting the last standing goon directly in the throat.

"Just one left!" Vic yelled out, trying to crawl out of the firing line.

Sawyer didn't need to fire, as a second arrow then came flying out from the trees and into the saddled O'Driscoll's back, puncturing so hard that it came through the chest too, sending him off the horse and into the gravel.

As the two captives knelt and lay there in awe, they watched the trenchcoated man with the hole in his throat stumble around, leaving a big trail of blood, trying to get away from the scene. Before long, not even out of camp, he collapsed dead.

"You a'ight?" Sawyer turned and asked with genuine concern.

Vic was still making sense of everything, laying on his side, perplexed.

"Vic… You okay?"

"I'm dandy, kid. Just dandy." Vic replied with a big sigh.

Sawyer looked around at the trees and bushed that were shrouded in blackness.

"You can show yourself now!" The young man shouted, aiming the Volcanic.

Both men waited patiently, hearing twigs snap and bushes shake to their right side. There was a small figure making their way out, wearing a hat that seemed a little too big.

Being the ever-deducing lawman, Vic knew who it was before they even really appeared.

"What in the _fuck…_ Are _you_ doing here?!" The deputy yelled in shock.

"Saving your fucking ass, it looks!" Ellie Kennedy replied, putting her bow back over her shoulders, "You're welcome!"

Sawyer was badly confused, still clutching at the Volcanic pistol, "Am I missing somethin' here?"

Vic groaned as he got back up to his knees, "Friend of mind, from back out West."

Ellie giggled, "Try the _closest_ he has to a friend."

She was wearing a dark-yellow shirt, sleeves rolled up. It would be quite pretty on her if not for the dirt and grime, from what was most certainly a hunting trip. Though she wore the same black jeans from home, her hat was the thing that looked more out of place than a priest in a duel.

"Where'd you get that thing?" Vic had to ask, nodding at the hat.

Ellie's eyes looked up to it, "Traded a dead rabbit for it back in that town, I forget its name. Smells like fucking shit? Lots a boring people?"

"Valentine?" Sawyer told her, lowering the gun.

"Yeah, that's the place."

Vic winced, "You've been following us since we left Valentine?"

She glared at the deputy, "Vic I've been following you since you left Tumbleweed."

Vic couldn't say that he was surprised in the slightest. It was exactly like Ellie to defy anything an adult said, especially him.

"Your mother know where you are?" He asked.

"Fuck no."

All three took a moment of silence to gather their thoughts and themselves, especially the two still-hogtied men.

"Got a knife, miss?" Sawyer asked, a little intimidated.

Ellie shot Sawyer a funny smile, almost as if he should've known she had a knife. The youthful hunter pulled out a small blade and got to cutting the binds on Sawyer and Vic quickly.

"Who are you then?" She asked the outlaw.

"I'm nobody, miss. Absolutely nobody."

"Nobody's nobody." She said before turning to Vic, "Who is he?"

"Never you mind, Ellie. Just hurry up with the knife, I've forgotten what it feels like to walk." The deputy replied with such fatigue.

Once Sawyer was cut free, he lay on his back, spreading all limbs out. The outlaw was astonished he and Vic were still in one piece, so took the time to rest.

Ellie then got to work on her friend's roped hands and feet.

"I just saved both you guys, now you _gotta_ let me in the loop!" She said to Vic, so eager and so interested.

"Later." He replied, calmly waiting.

Soon, Vic was free of his binds and stood up to his feet, and Ellie with him.

"Come on, Vic. You fucking owe me for what I just done!" Ellie said, voice raised, showing her age again.

"Sawyer…" Vic said, taking the outlaws attention, "Gun."

Sawyer quickly threw the Volcanic pistol up into Vic's hand. The Tumbleweed lawman then swiftly moved Ellie out of his way.

"What're you doin'?" She asked, annoyed.

Vic then shot the O'Driscoll with the arrow through his chest, this time hitting the head. He'd still been alive and had his rifle aimed in Ellie's direction. The gunshot made both the hunter and the outlaw jump outer their skin.

Vic then looked back to Ellie, "Now we're even."


	10. Chapter IX

**CHAPTER IX**

**_CUMBERLAND FOREST, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 7TH 1900_**

As Vic and Sawyer relieved the remaining corpses of their belongings, Ellie crouched in front of the dying campfire, loading it with more wood to keep it going.

The two men found handfuls of ammo for their guns, which they had taken back from one of the burlap sacks stored in the carriage. Vic felt more at ease now that he had both LeMat's back in their holsters. The deputy had thrown Ellie the Volcanic Pistol, wanting her to have something other than the bow. Sawyer also took a few minutes to load his Schofield and Shotgun.

In the pockets of one marauder, the Deputy found half a pack of cigarettes, to his delight.

"Much obliged, friend." Vic smirked to the dead man.

Sawyer finished loading his revolver and span the cylinder, hearing the satisfying clicks, before finally holstering it.

Vic had kept rubbing his neck and throat ever since the young hunter had cut him loose, Payne's grip on his windpipe having left a big, sore, red mark.

Ellie looked over, "Any shiny stuff they got is mine!"

Sawyer laughed a little, "So that's the one pal you got in the world, huh?"

Vic, still raiding the pockets of the dead men, shrugged his shoulders in some sort of admission.

"Well give the gal her due, she did save our skins." Sawyer reminded the Deputy before picking up one of the dead men's satchels.

Ellie managed to get the fire going really well. Its flames towered over her as she squatted a few yards away. As she waited for Vic and the outlaw to finish their looting, she sat on the big log and started to whittle away with her knife at some of the small sticks and branches she'd collected, making her own arrows.

Vic managed to build up a wad of cash from all the corpses. It was too dark to really tell how much was there and how long it could last, so instead he pocketed it all, deciding to count it later.

Sawyer took a pretty strong lasso from the last body he searched. It was long and so much sturdier than most others, like it had been reinforced. He assumed it was to help keep captives from wiggling outer the knots, like he himself had often done in the past.

Vic finally sparked a fresh cigarette, taking the most satisfying drag that he could remember. For a moment he felt like it soothed the pain in his neck and throat. It had been hours since his last one and he had been through some hard shit in the meantime. So the cigarettes, to him, were a well deserved luxury.

"Want me to cook up some food, Vic?!" Ellie asked from across the dimly lit patch.

Vic exhaled the smoke and frowned, "You got food to cook?!"

"Well I been out hunting the last few days!" Ellie said, reaching into her satchel, "I managed to catch a squirrel!"

The youthful hunter brandished what Vic assumed was the small carcass of a squirrel, like it was a toy. Sawyer noticed this too but decided to keep quiet. The outlaw was grateful for what the young girl had done for him and the deputy, but Vic and her seemed to have a real special kind of relationship. One that Sawyer, respectfully, felt he didn't yet have the right to interfere with.

"You got anything else!?" Vic asked, "Like a can of beans or someth'n!?"

Ellie stopped waving the dead squirrel around and looked confused, "Not really, why!?"

"Well a squirrel ain't gonna feed us all, Ellie!" Vic yelled out.

Ellie wondered to herself and then raked through her bag again for a few moments. Vic and Sawyer finally finished their searching of the bodies and walked back over to the campfire. Vic sat on the log next to Ellie, still smoking his cigarette, while Sawyer sat on the ground next to the fire a few feet away.

Ellie finally pulled out a little box, "Uh... I got these biscuits?"

The two men glanced at one another and then back to the girl that, just a half hour earlier, had saved them from a couple of grim fates.

Vic then accepted the options, "A'ight... That'll have to do then."

Soon, Ellie had skinned the squirrel carcass and had it on one of her makeshift arrows, now acting as a cooking spit. She held it close to the fire and let it roast slowly, making sure the wooden stick didn't catch fire too. Vic and Sawyer sat quietly, thinking over the ordeal they had just been through. The two men hadn't known each other for even a full day yet and already they had shared an experience together that Vic hadn't even had with his fellow deputy's back home.

Vic had always worked alone in New Austin, feeling other folks would just slow him down, which he was right about. Once, about a year before, Vic and Quinn had ventured across the plains down to the edge of the Rio Bravo river, to wipe out a mob of the De Lobo gang. Those vicious raiders kept close to the river as a means to cross back over to Mexico if thing's got too heated. They'd been terrorizing the citizens for days, the news easily reaching Tumbleweed.

Vic and Quinn were sent out to the either chase them back across and scare them enough to make them stay there. Or just make sure they didn't see the next sunrise. They'd opted for the second choice. And while the De Lobo gang was killed fairly easily, Quinn had caught a bullet in the shin. Vic didn't catch even a punch, but he had to make sure Quinn was safe while covering his own ass. Since then, he'd always done the jobs alone.

Now Quinn was dead. Killed by the very same man who Vic had been throttled by not even an hour before. But unlike every other job, the deputy wasn't alone this time. Sawyer had made it a two man job, and now Ellie had appeared from nowhere and made it three. Any other time, Vic would've refused to have that many along, but after encountering Roland Payne for the first time, he knew any help at all was necessary.

"Hope this thing tastes good. Took me like twenty minutes to catch the fucker." Ellie said, watching the sizzling carcass roast against the fire.

Sawyer frowned with a grin, "Twenty minutes? Why didn't you just stomp on it? Would'a been faster."

"You think I didn't fucking try that? He was faster than some cougars I seen. Took two arrows to finally hit him."

"You've seen a cougar?" Vic then asked, grimacing.

Ellie looked at her older friend and nodded nonchalantly, as if coming across a cougar was something she'd done many a time and that Vic should've known.

"And it didn't see you?" He added.

The youthful hunter then shook her head just as casually, "Was sleepin'."

Vic just chuckled to himself, "A'ight then."

Ellie had already proven herself more than she needed to. She'd saved Sawyer from torture and Vic from certain death. But the more she revealed about her journey before that, the more surprised the men got. Sawyer thought she could've been lying, after all she was young. Vic though, believed every single word. He'd known her since she was a toddler. Ellie didn't have a filter, and spoke with more honesty than most people did. The deputy truly believed she had came across a cougar, an animal that could kill you with one bite, and happily accepted that she'd managed okay on her own.

"What else you been up to? Besides bird doggin' me?" Vic asked, still massaging his own neck.

Ellie looked up and her face twisted, "I just been hunting these last two days really. Found some funny lookin' cards. Heard I could sell 'em for a lot of cash if I manage to find them all."

"Cards?" The deputy asked.

"Yeah, they're treasures, Vic." She replied, a hint of excitement springing out.

Vic sighed but nonetheless smirked, "Not like any treasure I ever heard of, but then again, you'd know more than I would about that shit."

"Damn right." Ellie said with a smirk, "You're good at findin' people, I'm good at findin' treasures. I told you for a long time now that we should partner up."

"Don't get any ideas. My business here is still _law _business." Vic told her, firmly but friendly.

Ellie scoffed, "Yeah right, then why you here with this guy?"

The youngster pointed her finger at Sawyer who had just been resting his eyes and listening to his two companions' odd rapport. The outlaw looked at Vic, as if he was being accused by the girl.

Vic glared at Ellie, "Same business as me."

She glared right back, "Oh yeah? And is _he_ the law too?"

Sawyer wasn't even a part of the conversation yet, despite being the subject. Even in the face of it, he could do nothing but silently laugh and smile. He'd seen some fiery women but Vic's young buddy was taking the cake.

Vic raised his hands and yielded, "You know what? Talk to _him_ about it. Just hurry up with that damn squirrel, will ya?"

With that, Vic sparked another cigarette and Ellie shot him a cocky smile. One of the smiles he'd seen so many damn times that the deputy hated to love. While he sat next to Ellie on the log, smoking away, she looked over at the young outlaw.

"Your name's Sawyer, right?" Ellie asked, moving the squirrel away from the fire.

"That's me, miss." Sawyer said gently, "Much obliged for what you did back there."

Ellie giggled, "That was nothin'. I've hit deer with my bow from further than that. When they were running too."

Sawyer was impressed. So much so he turned to look at Vic again.

"It's true." Vic confirmed, dragging the ember.

Sawyer shrugged, "Well it don't matter. I still appreciated it. Without your arrows, I'd have a broken leg by now probably, along with my fucked ribs."

"What happened to your ribs?" Ellie asked, immediately becoming enthralled.

"Kicked to pieces by that piece of shit, was here earlier."

"Who?" She asked.

Vic and Sawyer both shot Ellie a look of wonder. Only then did it dawn on both men that she clearly wouldn't have seen Roland. If she had, their job would've probably been done for them. Vic knew for sure, if she saw Roland strangling him, Ellie would've filled him with arrows.

"You obviously got here late, then." Sawyer told her, "His name was Roland Payne. He's the bastard that Vic and me are trying to find."

"Kid?" Vic winced, his voice raised a little.

Sawyer looked at him straight, "Oh come the fuck on, deputy. If this is the closest thing you got to a buddy, what's the problem with her knowin'?"

Vic pointed at Ellie but kept his eyes on Sawyer, "_She_ ain't getting involved in this."

"She's already involved." Sawyer remarked.

Vic then sharply stood up from the log and stepped closer to the young outlaw, who in turn began to stand up and face him back.

"Stop bein' assholes!" Ellie shouted with annoyance.

The men again looked back at the girl. She had her knife ready and was about to cut into the cooked squirrel and share out the small portions of meat. Vic had been ready to pummel his would-be partner and Sawyer was about ready to defend himself. The young outlaw hadn't meant to provoke the lawman in any way, but clearly he'd touched a nerve. Not even when they first met, and Vic looked at him as a target, did he seem to get as angry as that.

"Look, I apologise." Sawyer said quietly, hands up, "But she saved us. Saved _you_ in particular. Gotta give her something in return, right?"

"She's not getting involved. Simple as that." Vic responded almost immediately, ignoring Sawyer's words.

"Can I speak for my own, please?" Asked the girl, annoyed at her older friend.

Vic turned, "Look I appreciate what you did an all, Ellie. But this shit's dangerous. I ain't putting you in it, a'ight?"

"Come on, I can fucking take care of myself. You've seen me!"

"What would your Ma think of me? Putting you at risk?"

"Oh fuck my Ma, she'll understand!"

"Okay, and what about your Pa?" Vic then whispered.

Ellie's face suddenly filled with a certain sadness. It wasn't that Vic had hurt her feelings, but that he had brought up a pretty sore subject. For once, she didn't have anything to say back. Instead she just handed Vic the skewered squirrel, her knife, then sat down quietly on the log to whittle her arrows again.

Vic hadn't meant to hurt her, and felt right away that by mentioning her father, maybe he had gone a little below the belt. The deputy looked at Sawyer who stood confused. Before long both men sat back down and Vic sliced the squirrel. He passed Ellie a hunk of the meat and then Sawyer too. The squirrel meat indeed tasted real good, but there was so little of it that it was gone a bit too quick for their liking. All three could've definitely eaten more.

Sawyer took a sip of water from his small flask before passing it to Vic, who took a decent swig himself. Everything had went silent in the camp. The only sounds around were the gentle rustling of the trees and the crackles of the fire. Ellie was still at a loss for words, Vic didn't know what to say to her and Sawyer didn't want to say anything at all. After hearing how Vic and Ellie had talked to one another, the young outlaw still felt it wasn't his place.

After thinking hard on what to say or do, Vic finally nudged Ellie and held out Sawyer's flask. She turned away, refusing it.

"You gotta drink, Ellie. Could die of thirst." Vic said, trying to stir her.

She then gave him a deep frown, "I ain't fucking stupid, Vic."

Vic smiled, "Never said you was. But take a drink. For me?"

Still Ellie frowned. And still Vic smiled.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, huh?" Vic said gently and honestly.

Ellie's frown soon turned into a grin and she did as Vic asked. She took a satisfying gulp of water and then threw the flask back to Sawyer, before whittling another arrow.

Vic and Sawyer rested comfortably and then soon broke out the box of biscuits that Ellie had brought along. They were all the way from New Austin and tasted even better than the squirrel meat. All three of them soon finished the box and sat around with their spirits a little higher. Vic smoked, Sawyer rested and Ellie kept making her arrows and sharpening her knife.

Vic kept glancing over at her, watching her work. The arrows she was making looked real sharp and deadly, he could not deny her skills. The deputy knew damn well she could handle herself, that wasn't his worry. Vic had just never truly realised until that night how dangerous Roland Payne was. Thinking about him possibly getting his hands around Ellie's throat both worried and enraged the lawman. Surely he had to send her home, he thought. But lord knows that would be a verbal war, so he decided to leave it until morning.

Sawyer took the time to finally rest his body. It had been one of the longest and hardest days of his life. His time in Emerald Ranch already felt like a lifetime ago, after having come so far. Laying down on his back, looking up at whatever stars he could see past the trees, he daydreamt of being back there, with no bullshit to deal with. Being with Ted Crowley, helping the old fella out with the ranches, sounded like a good way to spend his time. But soon those dreams drifted towards something else. Soon he found himself daydreaming about how good it would feel to finally stand over the corpse of Roland Payne, knowing that he was no longer out there.

Time passed and soon enough it was only Sawyer and Vic that were still awake. Ellie had used her satchel as a pillow against the log and lain her head on it. Soon she was practically out cold, the day having taken it right out of her. Vic watched her attentively, still feeling bad about mentioning her father. Sawyer felt since she was asleep, maybe it was a good time to talk about what their next move was to be.

"What now?" Sawyer asked suddenly.

Vic looked away from Ellie and towards the outlaw, "Makes a change... You asking me what to do."

"Well I'm at a loss now, gotta admit." Sawyer stated, sitting back up, "I mean, that son of a bitch is still on those fucking plains, killing people right this minute probably. Now he may have been stupid enough to let you and me live, but that still don't push us any further towards him."

Vic sighed and nodded in agreement. The young outlaw was right. They'd been lucky that Roland hadn't just shot them dead when he'd had the chance. So lucky that they hadn't even taken the last couple of hours since he left to really think up a plan of action. They were just grateful to be alive. Grateful to Ellie.

"What about that thing he said? About the bank?" Sawyer reminded Vic.

Vic didn't even know what he meant. Around the time Roland took off, Vic had been on his back gasping for air and making sure his neck hadn't broke.

"He told one of the O'Driscoll's to help him break some bank." Sawyer finally said after letting Vic think for a minute, "Surely that mean's he's gonna break _into_ some bank, right?"

Vic rubbed his neck again, "Well yeah, probably. What banks are in New Hanover then, kid? You know this area better than me or her."

Sawyer thought about it. There wasn't that many banks in any town nearby. Valentine had a small bank, but not big enough for Roland Payne to raid. And then again, he'd already been through Valentine, so if he was gonna rob that bank, he would've done it already. There wasn't a bank in Strawberry, plus there was no way in hell Roland would be heading back there, not after what had happened the week before. The young outlaw kept thinking, and then suddenly came to a rather obvious conclusion.

"Saint Denis." Said Sawyer, looking right at Vic.

"Saint who?" Vic asked.

"Saint Denis. It's a big city down south in Lemoyne. Probably a few day's ride from here." Sawyer said confidently, "It's the biggest bank in the area right now. It'll have the most money for sure. If that motherfucker's about to rob any bank, it'll be that one."

"You been there before?" Vic asked. They would need some experience, since the deputy had only heard of the place in stories.

Sawyer laughed to himself again, "Yeah, well. I grew up there."

Vic didn't expect to hear that. It dawned on him at that moment that he and Sawyer hadn't ever really spoken about their pasts to eachother. All they knew was that they were both on the hunt for revenge against the same man. Other than that, they were both still strangers.

"You grew up there?" Vic asked, almost saying it to himself, "Then what the fuck are you doing here? As an outlaw?"

Sawyer sighed, "Long story, I guess. I'll tell it to you one day, maybe. But until that time comes, if it even does... We'll probably need a bottle of whiskey."

Vic happily accepted what Sawyer had said and didn't feel like he ought to pry any further. If the kid didn't wanna say much else, then that was his choice. But that didn't stop Sawyer from asking some of his own questions.

"So what was all that?" Sawyer asked, nodding towards Ellie, "About her Pa?"

Vic looked at Ellie again, "He was a good friend of mine. Knew him all my life."

Sawyer could see bit of sadness now coming out of Vic too. A similar sadness to what Ellie displayed earlier when her Father had been mentioned.

"He got killed by a band of Comanches up in Cholla Springs, when she was only four years on this earth." Vic said solemnly, now looking into the fire, "Before he died, I promised that man that I would look out for her, as much as I could."

Sawyer listened and saw the sorrow in the deputy's eyes as he told the story. The young outlaw was surprised that Vic would even tell him this so soon. Especially after refusing to talk about his own past.

Vic finally snapped out of his little trance and rubbed his eyes, "She only remembers him a little. A few odd pieces here and there in her memory. Was wrong of me to mention him like that. I just don't want her near any fucking harm."

Both men then let a comfortable silence take over the camp. Aside from the trees and the fire, some small faint snores could be heard from Ellie. They weren't loud and destructive like some of the folks in saloons. They were more like high-pitched little tiny breaths. Vic just smirked at the sight of her. This tough little gal, taking out raiders with her bow, better than some professional hunters could, still looked like a child when she finally got off to sleep.

"I'm gonna send her back on a train tomorrow, before we head to where we need to be." Vic finally told Sawyer.

"Send her home?"

"You been _listening_ to me?" The deputy asked, very sternly.

"I have, but hear me out, Vic." Sawyer started, "You and me, we've been on Roland's trail for a few days now. Only been doing this _together_ for a matter of hours, right?"

Vic didn't speak, he just listened.

"Speaking for us both... We ain't exactly been the subtlest we could'a been at this point." Sawyer said carefully, "And 'cause of that, we almost got killed or maybe even worse."

"Kid, if you got some point, hurry up and make it."

Sawyer sat up again, "Ellie saved our asses. No denying that. And she managed to elude you for fucking days. On top of that, she even left to go huntin' and then manage to track us down _again._"

Vic's face twisted with thought, he didn't know whether to punch Sawyer or listen some more. Before he could decide, Sawyer had already continued.

"What I'm gettin' at is... Maybe you shouldn't send her back home. Let her stay, let her help. Clearly she wants to and even more clearly, she can handle herself better than some adults I seen." Sawyer suggested, "If she could help track that son of a bitch the same way she's tracked you, then maybe she's some help we could use."

Sawyer made his point and then lay himself back down. Vic had went to smoke another cigarette but suddenly realised he had frozen up while Sawyer had been speaking. After a minute he finally did spark up another and dragged it hard. The kid had made a damn good point, and Vic knew deep down that even if he threw Ellie onto a train himself, it'd take a matter of days before she would just appear out of nowhere again. As much as she looked up to him, she lived to defy him.

The Tumbleweed maverick still didn't like the idea of keeping her around for the journey. But maybe if he laid down some rules, she'd obey them if it meant she could tag along. A _big _maybe, since any form of rules didn't go down well with Ellie.

Vic looked down at the outlaw, "A'ight... But if she get's in any trouble at all... It's on your ass."

Sawyer scoffed, "Nah, nah, I don't think so, deputy. Don't try and lay that risk on my shoulders, I got enough on 'em. That's _your_ fucking decision, I'm just giving my two cents."

Sawyer went quiet again, leaving Vic to his conflicting thoughts. And after a few minutes of peace, smoking and thinking, Vic looked at Ellie and made his decision. Maybe it _was_ time she saw a bit of the world, something she'd wanted for as long as he could remember. But by god he was gonna watch her like a hawk.

"Well, you get yourself some damn good sleep, kid." Vic chuckled, "Tomorrow we got a big day."

"How'd you figure?" Sawyer asked, his eyes still closed.

"Well if Payne's gonna rob a bank in that big city... We're gonna need some fucking help to stop that and get him."

"Damn right, what you got in mind?"

"Well, I got these two contacts that might have what we need." Vic replied, "Two English fella's, bothers, they run a hotel. Also deal some other stuff on the down low. I think we oughta go seen 'em."

"Sounds good, where are they?" Sawyer asked, his voice weakening as he drifted further to sleep.

"Strawberry. West Elizabeth." Vic replied, smirking and smoking.

And with that, Sawyer struggled to sleep for the rest of that whole night. They were going back to the state where he was wanted immediately for hanging.


	11. Chapter X

**CHAPTER X**

**_CUMBERLAND FOREST, NEW HANOVER, JUNE 8TH 1900_**

Just a couple of hours after the sun rose and finally took away the darkness of the forest, Vic and Sawyer were still sleeping rather easily, exhausted from the ordeals they faced the prior day. Even the young outlaw had managed to drop off eventually, despite the plan Vic mentioned before getting his own head down.

Sawyer had lain awake for awhile afterwards, his mind consumed by the daunting task that lay ahead. If Vic was telling the truth, and they _were_ to visit Strawberry in West Elizabeth for some help, then Sawyer was going to have to form some plan of his own on how to not be seen or caught by the authorities, who were surely still looking for him.

Ellie had been the first to rise at dawn, given she was the first to sleep. Already she had gotten the campfire going again, though not as strong as the night before. Since the men were still sleeping, practically sucking their thumbs, the young hunter took another look around the camp. The morning light revealed a few things that neither she nor the guys had noticed when scavenging the previous evening. Particularly a few small wooden crates next to the camp's now ruined tent.

The youngster opened the crates and saw they had already been thoroughly emptied, save for a couple of very welcomed cans of food. Beans and Corned Beef, to be precise. If Vic had just been a little more thorough, as he was any other time, she thought, they would've had a better supper. That aside, the young hunter decided to use her findings to cook up a much better breakfast.

Once Ellie had the cans boiling next to the fire, and their drool-inducing scents spread around the camp, Sawyer was awoken. Rather than drag the morning out any longer, Ellie decided to get Vic up herself.

"Sleeps the darn sleep of the dead." She muttered to herself before kicking the deputy, "Get up, Vic!"

Feeling the boot to his shoulder, Vic jumped out of his sleep with a confused grunt, almost going or his LeMat's before realizing who it was.

"Breakfast's almost cooked." Glared the girl, "Found some beans, you'll be glad to know."

Vic watched, his eyes still puffy and blurred from the deep sleep, as Ellie walked back over to the camp where Sawyer sat quietly. The deputy figured she'd been the first up and had already foraged around the campsite since she'd managed to find some actual food to cook. He promptly joined them, taking no time to light his morning cigarette.

The three of them spent the next hour enjoying the peace, and enjoying the breakfast even more. The red hot beef and the beans were a big hit, with both Sawyer and Vic praising Ellie for her findings. She decided to leave out the fact that she'd found the cans mere yards from where they'd slept. When the food was cleared away, they all sat letting it rest and took in the now much more soothing feel of the Cumberland Forest. The two New Austin natives found it strange that the simple difference of night and day had such a huge effect on how a place could feel. Back home, everything felt the same no matter the time or the weather.

Ellie had never even seen a forest before, so she became a tad disappointed when it came time to leave. Vic had rested enough and soon he kicked dirt onto the fire, putting out the flame and started to gear himself up. Sawyer saw that it was obviously time to leave and felt a feeling of uneasiness come over him. He didn't want to go back to Strawberry whatsoever, so started coming up with ideas in his head on how to get out of it.

Vic then turned to the outlaw, "Where's my mare?"

It had never even occurred to the deputy in the time since he was knocked out in Valentine that April was nowhere in sight. Last he saw her she was hitched outside the Valentine General store. Unless someone had untied the reins, which he doubted, she'd probably still be there on her own.

"Uh... Still in town, I guess." Sawyer said, "I don't know what the damn thing looked like."

Heading back to Valentine wasn't an option for Vic anymore, so he was going to have to come up with a second plan fast. Ellie must've had her horse, he thought.

"Your's around?" Vic asked his young friend, "One with the funny name?"

"He's tied to a tree not far from here. And his name ain't funny!" Said Ellie, irked by the remark.

"How 'bout yours?" Vic then asked, looking back at Sawyer.

"Wasn't hitched in Valentine, I know that. Follows me like a fly on shit, so I don't imagine he's too far either."

Vic stood quiet for a moment just to think. April was stuck in Valentine, but he had to get to Strawberry as soon as possible if they wanted any chance at catching Roland before he robbed the bank. Neither of them knew exactly _when_ he planned to do it, so Vic thought it was best to act _fast_.

"A'ight, lead the way." Vic finally told the girl.

Ellie soon led Vic and Sawyer through the shrubs and trees, stepping across the damp mud. Everything smelt fresh in the forest, from the sap all the way to just the air. Sawyer felt nothing for it but appreciated how it must've looked to both his acquaintances. Vic couldn't stop staring at everything and Ellie's jaw was practically agape through the whole walk. Sawyer thought for a minute that she might've never seen a tree before in her life. Then he soon realized that would be ridiculous.

At last they came upon her horse, Friday. His reins were still hitched around one of the many tall oak trees. The stallion was a dark horse, almost black. Equipped with a saddle given to Ellie by her mother a few years before.

She ran straight over and petted the horses snout, "You're still here! Good boy!"

Ellie soon checked the saddle's own satchel-bag to make sure everything was still there that she'd left. The young hunter had made sure to leave her treasure maps with the horse in case there'd been more trouble at the camp. The last thing Ellie had wanted was those ugly cretins getting their hands on what was hers.

Vic grinned at Sawyer, "Friday... What kinda name is that?"

"Well what kinda name is April?!" Ellie yelled back, "You ask me they're pretty fuckin' similar!"

Vic just chuckled at her. She always had something to say back, and sometimes he liked it. Ellie had better responses sometimes than half the cocksuckers he'd hogtied over the years. The girl was smart, and he'd enjoyed watching that grow.

Sawyer still didn't really say anything. His mind still all over the idea of being hung in Strawberry. Vic had noticed his outlaw companion had been acting agitated long before they'd even left camp, but assumed he'd have gotten over it by now. Clearly apparent, that was not to be. Now the deputy was starting to feel a little guilty about purposefully trying to unnerve Sawyer. They _did_ have to go to Strawberry, but with Vic being clearly a man of the law, he'd pictured it would be an easy trip even if people recognised the outlaw. If he was with the Tumbleweed lawman, people would assume he was already in custody.

"Don't worry about it, kid." Vic said outer nowhere, "You look different now anyway, right?"

Sawyer felt his clean shaven face, "Guess so. As different as can be without a beard. Don't mean there won't be _some_ cocksucker with a keen eye."

"Well with me there you'll already look like you've been caught."

"And if the people there wanna watch me swing?"

"We cross that bridge when we come to it. If we even do." Vic assured him.

Ellie, who had unhooked Friday's reins and lead him over, suddenly spoke up after eavesdropping on the conversation.

"What if he strolled into that place after dark?" Ellie suggested, "Then nobody'd see him."

"I get what you mean, Ellie, but we gotta do this quick." Vic said, "Ain't got time to be waiting around for dark again."

"Well, why don't you go first?" Sawyer then thought.

Vic listened and watched as Ellie led Friday over and stood next to the outlaw. Both looked at the deputy with thoughtful eyes. Vic didn't know what to do or say, feeling like he was being ganged up on.

"Yeah, _you_ go first." Ellie agreed, "Those English weirdo's are _your_ buddies after all. You can talk to 'em about what's been happenin' and what you're doin' there. And once they understand all that, then Sawyer and me can make our way in."

Vic's face and mouth twisted with wonder, "Then what the hell would you two do in the meantime? Go treasure hunting?"

Ellie's face lit up, "Yeah, that was my idea!"

Sawyer even glanced at her, "Hunting?... For treasure?"

"Yup, I got the maps in Friday's bag there." Ellie replied, pointing, "There's one not far from here, I think! Some river called 'Dakota'?"

The Dakota River was just a ways north, Sawyer knew. The girl wanted him to help her find some stupid trinket she'd read about on a map. Probably passed to her by some drunk about to collapse into Valentine's river of horseshit. But if it meant slipping into Strawberry and then back out again without being seen by the masses, then he had to play along.

"A'ight, well let's go do that then." Sawyer finally agreed.

"Where's that river?" Vic asked.

"Just a few miles north of here."

While Vic pondered the situation, Ellie was practically skipping with excitement. She patted Friday on the neck and then went to step into the stirrup but Vic stopped her and gently pulled her aside.

"What gives?" She asked, puzzled.

"I'll take Friday with me." Vic said calmly, "I'm gonna need him, Ellie."

"The fuck? Why can't you go get yours?"

"I need to get to Strawberry fast, a'ight? I ain't got time to trek back to that shithole." The deputy told her, "Sawyer here's got his own horse. Not far, he says."

Ellie looked at Vic and then back to Sawyer, something she did a few times, with what looked lip another pet lip, "But... It's... I don't."

"Go find your... Treasure, or whatever." Vic started, trying to ease her up, "Then go get April for me, huh? You remember what she looks like, don't ya?"

The youthful huntress listened closely to him and nodded. April couldn't be missed by many, she was so beautiful. Even Ellie knew that if the mare was left in town much longer she'd be taken into the stable and put up for sale, at best. At the same time, she'd seen Vic ride Friday a few times before and the stallion seemed to get on well with the lawman. Plus, when Ellie was younger, Vic had let her ride April around after he'd first broke her. She was just as stunning a mare back then as she was now. So at least Vic wasn't just being stupid. Ellie's plan was a good one, and so was Vic's.

Ellie then smiled, "So... This mean you ain't sending me home?"

"If I did, would you actually _go_?" Vic asked, grinning right back at her.

Ellie kept grinning and shook her head, full of herself. Vic pulled her hat down across her eyes before climbing up onto Friday's saddle. Sawyer had watched again and found himself feeling more and more appreciative of the Deputy and girl's relationship. The outlaw couldn't remember ever being as close to a friend as his two companions were to each other. It made him envious, but in the good way. Though Sawyer had still never intruded, he was surprised that Vic was allowing him to be alone with Ellie out in the plains. It made him feel as though even after such little time, Vic must've trusted him in _some_ way. Or it could've been because Vic knew that Ellie could kill anyone if she needed to.

At that point, Sawyer stopped letting his mind wonder, "Guess we'll meet you in Strawberry then, deputy."

Vic looked downwards at the outlaw, "Just don't be late, kid. We ain't got a big window to get that motherfucker. So we gotta do this as fast as we can."

Sawyer just nodded in agreement and held out his hand, "You got it."

Vic and Sawyer shook hands for once, something that surprised even Ellie. She knew they were working together, but didn't think for a second that Vic really _liked_ Sawyer.

Vic pointed at Ellie and glared, "Strawberry, right after dark. You got me?"

"Yes, sir." She said, smiling before giving him a sarcastic salute.

After halfheartedly saluting her back, Vic whipped the reins and gripped the stirrups, sending Friday right into a gallop. Sawyer and Ellie stood back and watched Vic ride the horse like it was his right on through the trees and bushes until the hoof's couldn't be heard and neither could be seen anymore.

The outlaw found himself a loss for words in a way. Ellie had helped him get out of a trip to Strawberry which could've got him killed, but she was still a stranger to him. And certainly a _strange_ gal at that. While she took her little knife out to test its sharpness, Sawyer felt he should have thanked her, but felt that anything he said would come under fiery scrutiny.

Ellie then turned to him, "You gonna get your horse then?"

Sawyer almost took it as an order, before remembering that they were now hunting some treasure and _needed_ a horse to get to it. He shrugged and then let out a strong and loud whistle which sounded as though it echoed off of every tree in the area. It was a very specific and practised whistle which always tended to let Neigan know exactly where his owner was and sharply get there. Knowing it would probably take a few minutes, Sawyer leaned against a tree.

"What'cha doing?" The girl asked, losing patience already.

"Waitin' for my horse. What else d'ya wanna do? _Walk_ to the river?" Sawyer asked.

Ellie frowned, "So you just let your horse wander around?"

"He's well trained." Sawyer said confidently, "Follows my whistle as soon as it sounds, and stays away from trouble when I ain't around."

"Huh." She replied, surprised and impressed.

"So what's with Friday?" Sawyer then asked suddenly.

"What about him?"

The outlaw clarified, "I mean what's with the name 'Friday'? Don't bite my head off, but that is a funny name."

Ellie gave him an angry stare. Sawyer found her face a little funny when she did, but he made sure not to express that. Instead he just forced a blank expression and stared right back until she decided to answer his question.

"You ever heard that riddle?" The huntress asked.

Sawyer squinted, "Riddle?"

"A cowboy... Rode into town on Friday?" She said, trying to help, "Stayed for three days... And then left on Friday?"

The outlaw was still squinting for a long minute and, whilst he gazed into the expanse of trees, started to laugh to himself when he finally understood what it meant. Ellie didn't know whether it was laugh at the riddle or if he was laughing at _her_. When Sawyer could see she was about to pop off again, he gestured his hand.

"Easy." He said, still chuckling, "I get it... It's a good name."

Her frown finally turned into a relaxed smile, "Thanks, what's yours named?"

As Ellie asked her question, the majestic brown horse of Sawyer's trotted onto the scene and let out an excited neigh. The young fugitive had seen him coming long before he actually arrived, but took pleasure just watching him make his way again. He was such a well trained horse and still proved to be Sawyer's most loyal companion.

Ellie was surprised, "Whoa... He's a nice horse!"

"Aw, I'm sure he appreciates the sentiment." Sawyer replied, patting the horse's neck and scratching his mane, "To answer your question, his name's Neigan."

The New Austin girl scoffed almost uncontrollably, "Neigan?... What kinda weird name's that?"

Sawyer looked at her and shrugged casually, "Don't rightly know. Just a name I kinda liked."

"And you and Vic said mine had a funny fucking name!" Ellie laughed.

Sawyer reached into the satchel on Neigan and fed him an Oatcake. Once that was done, the outlaw climbed up and into the saddle and then offered his hand to Ellie. Once she took it he pulled her up and into the saddle behind him.

Neigan didn't even flinch at being mounted by two people, which had never happened to him before. Sawyer assumed it was because Ellie had such a small build and therefore didn't cause any extra strain. Either that or even the horse dared not cross her.

"Come on, boy!" Sawyer shouted, turning Neigan north and getting him right into a gallop on the spot.

As Sawyer and Ellie rode through the forest, snapping twigs and branches, crushing insects and rocks of mud underneath, the huntress tried her best to consult the map she'd taken from Friday's satchel to make sure they were going to the right part of the river. Soon she found it a futile effort as Neigan moved so quick, and had to avoid so many obstacles, that her view of the scribbles and drawings was just a blur.

"Goddamn! Can't you slow the fucker down!" She asked, yelling in Sawyer's ear.

"You wanna get there fast, don't ya?" The outlaw replied.

"I gotta check the map!" She yelled, "What if we get to the wrong place on the Dakota?!"

"I'm just _getting_ us to the fuckin' Dakota!" Sawyer told her, "Once we do that, _then_ you can consult your damn map!"

Ellie groaned like a kid again and decided to watch the trees get shorter and less in abundance until she got a little bored. She could say one thing for sure, Neigan was a fast horse. They hadn't seemed to have been riding for a half hour yet and as far as she could see, they'd gone quite a distance. They were still in the forest but even that was starting to look different. After another few yards of galloping, Neigan seemed to slow down to a power-trot.

In her boredom, Ellie started chatting, "So, what's your deal?"

"I don't really have a deal." Sawyer replied after a short pause.

"I mean what're you _doing_ here? With Vic?" She asked, "I know you're both after this Roland guy but... I get why Vic's doing it... But why're you?"

Sawyer could understand the girl's curiosity, since he had been a bit of a mystery to her. And unlike Vic, the outlaw did feel he owed her for saving them both the night before.

"I used to ride with him. Me and him was outlaws." Sawyer began, "For awhile there I thought me and him was friends too. He's older than I am so I kinda looked up to him at first."

"What... What happened?" Ellie asked with a stutter, thanks to Neigan jumping a larger than normal bush.

"He just started killin' people... Every single time we came across any. At first we just robbed 'em. We both needed the cash to head further West, but the more we robbed, the more he killed." Sawyer said, "Before I knew it, Roland had left such a long damn trail of bodies behind us that it was gonna get impossible to explain that it was all him and not me."

"So you're sayin' you never killed _anyone_?" Ellie asked, "In all that robbing and thieving, you never shot a soul?"

"Sure I did. But only in self defence." He replied solemnly, "Roland just butchered people. Didn't need provoking whatsoever."

"Why didn't you do anything?"

"Well that's the thing... I tried, a few days back." Sawyer said, painfully recalling that night, "I'd just finally had enough, and tried to stop him killin' a woman and her little boy. But I wasn't fast or strong enough. I'm lucky he didn't kill me too."

Ellie's jaw dropped, "Fuck... So he killed a _Ma_ and her _kid_?"

Sawyer's following silence was her answer. Even Ellie didn't wanna pry much more, but her younger nature couldn't be controlled.

"So I guess you want some kind of payback?"

Sawyer turned back a little, "You could say that. But really I just wanna live in a world where people like him ain't out there."

"I get the idea there's lots of fucking people like him out there, though." Ellie replied with some truth.

"Trust me, Ellie... There's _nobody_ out there like Roland Payne." Sawyer finally replied sombrely.

Soon the outlaw and the huntress traced a path far through the trees, seeing no people and no animals, strangely. After a few more minutes, Ellie could hear the river. It was strong and clearly just a few meters ahead. Sawyer pulled the reins and stopped Neigan just as they exited the trees and came to the top of the rocky shoreline.

"Wow!" Ellie yelled out in awe.

Just up the ridge to their right, the Dakota River had it's own mini waterfall, and all the way down the hills as far as they could see, the river flowed on. The tall oak trees of the forest were now replaced by a swarm of pine trees, much smaller but even prettier. The river was crystal clear. So clear that Ellie and Sawyer could see the fish within. The youthful huntress thought about jumping in for a minute to catch some, it looked so amazing. Having grew up in New Austin, such a hot and dry state, Ellie had never before seen such a sight. The water seemed to be alive, splashing and crashing against the enormous rocks on both the edge of the shore and right in the centre.

Ellie was so entranced by the river and the water's current that she didn't even notice Sawyer climb down from Neigan and feed him another Oatcake.

The outlaw smiled, squinting because of the sun, "Ellie, now's the time to check that map."

After snapping out of it, the girl climbed down off of the horse and did just that. Sawyer just let her do her thing while he squatted close to the water and washed down his face, hands and neck.

Looking into his reflection at the edge of the river, Sawyer could've sworn his face's bruise was easing up. And then he realised his rib's hadn't even been bothering him that much either. Only when he remembered did they actually seem to pain him again. Maybe they weren't shattered after all, he thought.

Ellie studied the map and was pleasantly surprised to see that the treasure was apparently up on the ridge next to the waterfall. Sawyer, in his careless gallop, had brought her right to the spot she needed to be at.

"Hey, apparently it's right up there!" She told Sawyer, pointing with excitement and eagerness.

Sawyer looked up while filling his flask, "You don't say, huh?"

"Wanna come help me get it?"

"Nah, you go on up. I'll wait here." The outlaw replied, laughing to himself.

Ellie shrugged, "Suit yourself, not like I need the help anyway."

Sawyer found her pretty astonishing. He'd never really been around people younger than him since his early days in Saint Denis. For someone who'd grown up in a place apparently so hot and miserable, the girl seemed so full of life. Compared to himself, having grown up in a rich city, already wondering when life would improve.

Soon he watched her practically skip up the hill with joy, leaving him to his own devices. Everything seemed calm and easy for once. Nobody was around other than him and Ellie, who he kept an eye on easily thanks to the ridiculous hat. The Dakota River was loud, but in it's loudness was a semblance of peace. It helped take Sawyer's mind away from Roland and the possibility of having his neck snapped in Strawberry later that evening.

To stay relaxed and at ease, Sawyer walked a little further from the shore and sat down, his back against a rock. The outlaw shut his eyes and took swigs of the river's icy cold water. Since they'd trekked further north, the weather had gotten even colder, even to him.

_Sure you don't wanna come help?! _He heard Ellie shout down from the ridge.

"Nah!" Sawyer yelled out, "You just get to looking!"

Sawyer laughed again and spoke gently to himself, "You're probably in for a long hunt anyhow."

_Okay, I got it! _She then suddenly shouted.

She'd found it, just like that. Sawyer had thought the girl couldn't possibly be full of anymore surprises, but yet he sat against the rock, suddenly feeling pretty inadequate in comparison.

"Nice." The outlaw whispered to himself, before getting up to go see what she'd found.


	12. Chapter XI

**CHAPTER XI**

**_STRAWBERRY, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 8TH 1900_**

After a few hours horseback, in a saddle that wasn't his and trying to control a stallion that was only mildly friendly, Vic was pretty worn out and jaded when he finally saw the sign at the top of the hill, welcoming travelers to the town of Strawberry. It wasn't the first time he'd seen it in his life, as the Tumbleweed deputy had been a visitor in the West Elizabeth mountain town a bunch of times over the years. He had always remembered it as the furthest place East he'd ever been, up until a few days before at least.

The journey from the Cumberland Forest had been easy, which he was thankful for. The only problems he'd faced were crossing a couple of gully's and a river. What would usually have been normal and manageable tasks for the lawman were made just slightly harder given he was riding a horse that had gotten use to the command of a 16-year old girl. Vic had tried in the few hours with Friday to get on more familiar terms with the mount, all to no avail. It was clear that the horse knew it was a temporary affair, so it had no interest in growing a bond. Once Strawberry had been reached, Vic was gonna be more than happy to hitch Friday up and wait for his own mare.

As Vic trotted underneath the welcome sign, he could already see the town up ahead. Strawberry had always been a quaint and tranquil place. Every time Vic had visited over the years he'd enjoyed the cooler air and the calmer people. It had always made a nice escape from New Austin, which had always seemed like a different world in comparison. Unlike the flat land of Vic's home state, Strawberry was built on a large bank and had a river flowing through it. Among the enormous trees, banks and cliffs, Strawberry stood proud. Every building, cabin and bridge was made out of solid oak-wood. Admirably, the small mountain town managed to sustain itself too. There was a water-mill built in the centre, using the river water to provide sustenance to all the settlers.

Just when Vic trotted on past the small Butcher's stall, he heard a resident yell out from above. As the deputy turned he could see a man standing outside the general store on it's wooden deck, eating a small roll of bread.

"Howdy, sir! Welcome!" The man called out with a respectful smile, tipping his dirty hat and chewing hard.

Vic gave a weak smile back and waved awkwardly. He assumed that they'd noticed the badge on his shirt an therefore respected him almost by default, given the recent happening's in the small, friendly settlement. As much as the town residents might not have known it, the massacre that had took place there recently had effected him as much as them. Even as Vic made his way through the mud atop of Friday, up the bank of town, he could see all the makeshift graves. Little mounds of mud with rock coves and crosses made out of tree branches. The sight made him wonder to himself which graves were that of his two fallen colleagues. Where were Quinn and Robson buried? Did the residents even bury them, since they were not from around here? The thought of his two friends just being dumped in holes outside of town sickened him. Though deep down he knew the citizens of Strawberry were friendly, so surely his comrades would have been given the same treatment. _Surely_, he thought.

Soon enough though, Vic brought his focus back to point. The deputy had finally reached the top of the bank that Strawberry was built on. It was where the town's Jail and Welcome Center were. He didn't imagine the Jail would be housing many criminals, given the town was far out in the sticks and rarely saw any trouble. But it wasn't the Jail he was there to visit, so the deputy calmly but swiftly climbed down off of Friday and hitched the horse outside the Welcome Center. It was Strawberry's main hotel building for visitors. And it was the owner's of it that he'd came to see.

After Vic had made sure Friday's reins were tied tightly enough, he took a breather and lit a smoke while overlooking the rest of town from above. The view was beautiful and put his mind at rest for the few minutes he had to spare. It let him think about things for a little bit, mainly about what Ellie and Sawyer were up to. Vic doubted that whichever treasure Ellie had in mind would ever be found, if it was even real and not just some bullshit scribbled on some old paper. There was a little worry about the two of them being in danger too. All it would take was the wrong person to recognize who Sawyer was and then blood could be spilled.

Given he had little time to dawdle, Vic finished the cigarette quick, flicked away the butt and made his way up the steps onto the Welcome Center's beautifully crafted deck. The whole place was filled with sculptures and decorations made from what looked like deer antlers. To hear about it would make it sound like a butcher shop, but being there and seeing it, it was such an elegant sight.

It was on the lushly crafted deck that he noticed the owner sitting down at a small table in the corner, smoking a pipe and reading a paper. Both men recognized each other as soon as the glances were made.

"My word. Do my eyes deceive me?" David, one of the Anderson brothers said, with obvious sarcasm, "Victor Noble!?"

Vic looked around awkwardly. Nobody else had ever called him 'Victor', not even his own Mother. Yet the businessman from England seemed to find calling him that very crucial.

The deputy then smirked and nodded, "Howdy, Dave. How's business?"

"Why it's jolly good, dear boy." Said David with such enthusiasm before gesturing to a chair, "Please, join me."

Vic pulled the empty chair out and sat down across from his old friend. Even the chairs at the Welcome Center were real comfortable. Instead of being made from just thin limbs of timber, they were thicker, sturdier and had a soft cushion to sit on rather than a flat splintery plank. Vic found the comfort a relief after the rough journey in Friday's saddle.

"I must say, it's bloody nice to see you again! To what do I owe this splendid visit?" David asked, smiling and puffing away at his pipe.

Vic sighed and ribbed his tired eyes, "Long fuckin' story, Dave. Ain't really got the time to go far into it."

David chuckled, "Well, surely you can reveal the finer details. Please do, there hasn't been much excitement in these parts for some time. Not since the atrocities committed here in recent weeks."

"Well as it happens, it's actually because of those 'events' that I'm here." Vic revealed, leaning back in the soft chair, "I'm guessing you were around when it all went down?"

"Of course," Replied the Englishman before blowing out another cloud of smoke, "Although I did not witness every _part_ of it. Myself and Peter had to... Protect our business, so to speak. You understand."

"Then what was it you heard after it was all over?" The deputy asked.

David shrugged casually and looked at his paper, "That it was all the handy work of two quite notorious bandits. Am I right?"

Vic grinned at David. They'd known each other for years and had always been ally's from the get-go. Though deep down, both men knew they were practically accomplices to each other. After all, if Vic were to report the side business that David and his brother were running, they'd be shut down and maybe even hanged. And at the same time, Vic had _used_ their side business and their contacts to capture a few of his targets in the past. So now the deputy and the Englishman found themselves in a rather friendly truce. Thus, they'd learnt how to read one another quite well.

"Your tone kinda tells me you know more than you're lettin' on, Dave." Vic said, smirking and knowing fine well that he was right.

David laughed again to himself before loading up his pipe with more tobacco and relighting it. The sight made Vic crave another smoke, so he decided to join his friend and sparked up another.

"By god, did I ever tell you how joyous it is to have you visit, Victor? Life is so boring without the world's vexing tendencies. When you visit, you bring stories of the lands and plains beyond this idyllic town." Said the English migrant, paying Vic what seemed like a compliment.

Vic didn't have much to say back. He just smiled and dragged the ember of his smoke. The way David talked, the way _all_ English people talked, was just plain weird. Sometimes he didn't even know what they'd said. Thankfully after years of working together now and then, Vic was pretty attuned to the language that David Anderson spoke.

"However, I do digress." David admitted, chuckling yet again, "It's to my understanding and knowledge that the horrendous acts carried out against the pleasant people here were that of a man by the name Roland Payne."

"Then you'd be right, friend." Vic revealed.

David took a puff of the pipe and savored the taste, "Ghastly man, I must say. Pugnacious and incredibly unpleasant."

"You had dealings with him?" Vic asked, shocked at the idea.

David quickly shook his head, "Lord no, he just tried to pay for a room. But even we here don't take payments from men who look like they've just crawled their way out from the grave. No matter how much copper they may carry."

Vic took a big drag and continued, "Well he's the reason I'm here. Along with all the people killed here by that motherfucker, two of 'em were my friends. Colleagues from far out West. You remember seeing 'em?"

"Cannot say I do, old boy. Business was good that day, so much so I was behind the desk inside for most of it. And I don't recall any lightly tanned members of the law asking for beds."

"Even so, that piece of shit shot down two deputy's from Tumbleweed. Killed 'em in cold blood. Now I've been sent here by Sheriff Freeman to put an end to his little reign of terror." Vic finally told his friend, releasing the smoke from his lungs.

David took another puff from the pipe before putting his paper back on the table, "Do correct me if I'm wrong here, Victor. But I do sense that you may be here looking for some help with your little... Escapade."

Vic nodded calmly, "And again, you'd be right."

The English businessman just smirked and fiddled with his dark brown, perfectly kempt mustache. It was a handlebar that stretched quite a way off his face. Being the owner of a respected hotel in a mountain town, David was also wearing his usual black suit, white shirt and folded string tie. All just as clean and neat as his facial hair was. Not much attention was given to the hair on his head however, as there wasn't much there anymore besides a short comb-over.

After putting out his pipe and adjusting his suit, David stood up from his chair and gestured his hand towards the entrance to his building.

"I believe we ought to discuss these matters in private, Deputy." David suggested, "Over a drink, perhaps?"

Vic finished the smoke and stood back up himself, "Sure. A bourbon sounds pretty fucking good right about now."

The maverick lawman stood from the soft chair and followed David on through the door to the hotel lobby. The sight of it never failed to leave Vic astounded. Even though Valentine's hotel reception was a marvel to look at, it was nothing like the beauty of Strawberry's Welcome Centre. Just as you walked in, to the left there was enormous stuffed Grizzly Bear that sometimes frightened visitors. Even the antler-decor that covered the exterior was in an abundance inside too. Looking above, Vic noticed again that even the chandelier was a sculpture made out of the them. Even across the hall there was two stuffed Deer's too. The deputy figured it must've taken maybe a hundred deer and elks to get the place looking like it did.

David quickly dashed behind the reception counter and grabbed a small bronze key. Vic knew what it was for and stood patiently for the Hotel Manager to do his thing. Eventually he waved over one of his workers, a plump woman with red hair and a spotty face. Older than Vic was probably.

"Shelly, my dear! Could you man the reception for me whilst myself and the deputy discuss business in privacy?" David asked kindly as she approached.

Shelly's wrinkly face sneered, "Why can't Peter do that? I been busy washing the dirty sheets."

"Because my beloved brother is currently out of town doing business on behalf of us all." David told her, casually moving her towards the counter, "Now please, do as I ask won't you? And don't complain, you know how much the visitors in town do love your infallible smile."

Shelly was eventually behind the reception and stood still, giving David a very bland expression. Clearly she wasn't the social type, but if David was happy leaving the lobby in her hands, she must've been good for some things, Vic thought.

David then turned back to the lawman, "Now, old boy. Do follow me."

The Englishman then led Vic to a backroom that he unlocked with the bronze key. Both men then walked down a concrete flight of stairs into the Welcome Center's secret basement. A large cellar filled with crates of weaponry and ammunition and also boxes packed with alcohol of all kinds.

David took out a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon and two glasses, set them down on the desk he used to conduct his side business and then sat down across from Vic. The arms dealer looked even more at home at the desk of his secret, illegal line of work than he did up in the hotel. It still baffled Vic that the Anderson brothers had never been caught doing what they did. It wasn't as if they'd only ever supplied good people with weapons. They'd sold them to all kinds, even bandits and raiders. Their illusive occupation was not a very ethical one, and they knew it. Yet they'd never claimed to be good people themselves, which is probably why Vic had respected them for so long and never reported their actions.

David started to fill his pipe again, "Do pour the drinks yourself like a good chap. Double for his both, I should think."

Vic nodded again and poured two quite liberal measures of bourbon in each glass before sliding David's over to him. The man from England then lit his pipe and picked up the glass.

"Cheers, old friend." David said with a smirk.

"Uh, yeah. Cheers." Vic replied awkwardly.

After clanking both glasses together, the men took glorious gulps of their drinks. Vic hadn't had a real drink in a few days so he savoured it all. The Anderson's always managed to get the best, whether it was beer, whiskey, vodka, guns and even drugs. They could get it all and it did Vic well to be their friend, so he could enjoy all the benefits at no cost.

"So, do tell what it is you're here for Victor, no doubt it's captivating tale." David asked, eager and thrilled to hear.

Vic took another drink, "You know that kid that Roland Payne was riding with, right?"

"Ah yes. Young delinquent they say."

"Yeah well... He's not riding with him anymore." Vic revealed before drinking again, "That kid ain't really as bad as they all made him out to be."

David then glared with a grin, "Don't tell me that Victor Noble himself has allied with a known felon."

Vic didn't know what to say back, instead he drank the last of his bourbon and then poured another almost immediately. The deputy did it mainly to confess to his friend without really saying it.

"Good lord, it's true. How did that come to be?" David asked.

"Like I said outside. I've been sent here to kill Roland Payne... But I was sent here to kill the kid too." Vic replied, "Turns out the kid's been crossed by that motherfucker too. So yeah, we're working together with a common goal. Wouldn't you?"

David laughed again, "You must know by now, old boy, I am not the one to look when the topic is morality. However, I can say that I trust your judgement immensely, Victor."

"Good to know, then maybe you'll give us the help we're needing." Vic said, "'Cause me and the kid saw Roland Payne himself last night. The piece of shit's plannin' to rob a bank in that city down in Lemoyne."

"Saint Denis?" David asked with a strange urgency.

"Yeah that's the place. We're gonna try and stop that son of a bitch from doin' it. Stop him killin' anybody else and finally taking him down for good." The deputy revealed, "Now I came here to you, Dave, 'cause I need weapons. Some honest to god firepower to stop this motherfucker and any other goons he's got alongside him."

David had listened carefully. Almost like a child being told an engrossing bedtime story. And he was more than willing to do good by his friend, however he knew there was already a snag. If he was to give Vic the amount of arms he needed to complete his mission, something else had to be done. Peter still wasn't back from his trip to Fort Riggs, so clearly he'd ran into a problem. Either that or his layabout brother had gotten carried away with the Hemp plant again. Whatever the reason, David didn't have the right quality of equipment to give his friend.

"Of course I am more than willing to assist you, Victor. That you should know, old boy." David said before wincing, "There is, however, one slight spanner in the works."

Vic gulped more Kentucky Bourbon and sighed, "What is it I gotta do this time?"

Before David could even begin to explain the situation to the Deputy, the cellar's walls echoed with a few loud thuds coming from the stairwell. Vic and David both looked over with glaring eyes. After a few moments of silence, waiting for whoever it was to make their presence known, David stood up from his desk.

"Yes?! May we help?!" The Englishman called out, adjusting his string tie.

Another brief minute of nothing went by before Shelly finally poked her around the corner from the stairs. This time she looked oddly worried about something, Vic noticed. Not as angry or miserable as she had only ten minutes earlier.

David scoffed, "This little visit better be imperative, Shelly. Nobody other than myself and Peter are permitted down in this cellar. You know this."

Shelly's mouth was twitching, like she was trying to say something but didn't know how to really put it into words.

"Do bloody come out with it, Shelly." David ordered, firmly.

"P...P... ton." The plump, sour-faced woman muttered.

David winced and leaned forward, "Frightfully sorry, my dear?"

"Pinkerton." Shelly finally divulged, "Upstairs."

David frowned in confusion and began looking a little uneasy. The arms dealer glanced at Vic who sat as still as a rock, still drinking the bourbon. Before long, the Anderson brother patted himself down and adjusted his string tie once again.

"Did he at all mention his motive for visiting?" David asked, calmly.

Shelly just shrugged, "Ain't said much... Just needs to talk to you about the killin's, happened here not long back."

Vic then frowned just like his friend did, similarly puzzled and interested to know why a Pinkerton Agent could be here asking about the massacre. The Tumbleweed lawman thought it too little an incident to even warrant one Agent. The Pinkerton's never really involved themselves in anything less than something gigantic, like a bank robbery or a train raid. The maverick deputy sat bewildered, why would a Pinkerton be on Roland's tail too? Was he really _that_ infamous?

"Do tell the gentleman I shall be up in a few moments. Please make him aware of the hospitality's we offer here, won't you?" David kindly asked of Shelly, who just crept back upstairs without another word.

David then quickly turned to the Deputy, "Friend of yours, Victor?"

"Don't know any Pinkerton's. They don't really exist beyond the borders of New Austin." Vic replied after finishing his second glass.

Standing still, looking at the stairs, David was in deep thought, studying the situation. Vic did the same, still sitting at the desk.

Pinkerton's were not an entity to be messed with. Their jurisdiction reached further than any other law department. Even if Vic had never seen a single agent far West of New Austin, if one was to show up, they would be in charge, no matter what. And now there was an agent upstairs, while him and his English friend were doing arms deals in the basement. If this agent wanted to inspect the cellar, he could do so, without any prior consent. And David knew this well.

"Well, we'd do well not to keep the gentleman waiting much longer, Victor. You will accompany me up to the reception, won't you?" David then asked, preparing himself.

Vic finally rose from his seat and pulled out a cigarette, "Right behind ya."

"Hmm, may I?" David asked, casually reaching into Vic's packet and taking a smoke for himself, "Time's like the present I do enjoy inhaling something rather less conspicuous."

The deputy just watched his friend, clearly nervous, put the smoke between his mustache and lip before once again making sure his black suit, white shirt and tie were all in good order. Vic then lit a match to light his own smoke and held the small flame out to his friend to light his too.

David took a satisfying few drags of the cigarette before nodding and winking at Vic with gratitude. The deputy waved the match to put out the flame and then dragged the ember himself. Both men knew they'd kept the agent waiting long enough.

"Shall we, Dave?" Vic finally asked, gesturing his hand to the stairwell.

David nodded in agreement and both the Englishman and the Deputy headed to the concrete stairs and ascended back up into the less-secret world.

As soon as David and Vic entered the reception once again, the presence of the Pinkerton agent was known. Everything just felt very different to how it was before the men had moved to the basement. Only Shelly and the agent were present in the lobby when the cellar door opened.

The agent was standing against the reception desk, smoking a cigar, practically choking Shelly with the thick fog that leaked from his mouth and nostrils. He was a tad taller than Vic, the same height as David but thinner than both. Wearing a dark coat going down to his thighs, a blood-red waistcoat and a bowler hat with a red stripe going around it, it was impossible to mistake him as anything other than an agent of the Pinkerton's.

Vic noticed that the agent had eyed his lawman badge real quick, like an animal spotting prey. Though he knew the agent would never have visited somewhere as barren as Tumbleweed, he knew now for certain that Vic was a fellow man of the law. Just with less power

"You David Anderson?" The Pinkerton asked, his voice slightly high-pitched.

He wasn't a young man, but not old either. Sporting a thin goatee and greasy longish hair that crept out of his bowler hat, he was a strange and yet intimidating sight. Like most Pinkerton's, David thought.

"Correct, that is I." David said, putting on a gracious front and holding out his hand, "And who might you be, sir?"

"Agent Wilson." The Pinkerton divulged, shaking David's hand, "Here to ask you some questions if I may, Mr. Anderson."

David went quiet suddenly, looking at Agent Wilson, Shelly and Vic each for a second. The English arms dealer wanted nothing more than to tell the Pinkerton where to stick his questions. Unfortunately, that was an impossibility.

"Of course, Agent. I'd offer you a cigarette but it looks as though you have something which put's our smoke's to shame." David finally replied with a laugh, trying to break ice which was clearly indestructible.

Agent Wilson stared at David and kept quickly glancing to Vic behind him. Eventually the Pinkerton agent took another puff of his cigar and blew the smoke rather blatantly into David's face.

"About sixteen days ago, something happened in this town." Wilson started, "Fairly sure you were here when it happened."

David puffed away at his smoke, pretending to do some hard thinking, "Terribly sorry, Agent. My memory is getting rather fuzzy in my older age. I may have been present at the time but I could not be sure."

Agent Wilson then stared at David once again, this time with a meaner look.

"That's odd, 'cause four people I've already talked to in town can account for your whereabouts's that day." Wilson replied, calling the bluff, "You see when the gun's were goin' off and people were scramblin' for safety, some people hunkered down in your hotel. So it's been said, by a few, that you were right here."

Vic watched David, waiting to see his friend come back with something that would shut down the Agent fast. After a few moments of nothing, Vic saw something that he had not before. David Anderson was a loss for words. After all he had to be careful, since saying the wrong thing could have the Pinkerton agent searching the whole building, which wasn't good for him _or _Vic.

"Ah, well the citizens of Strawberry are indeed very honest, Agent Wilson." David finally said with a fake smile, "They're probably more than correct."

Agent Wilson nodded with an arrogant smile, almost like he was just waiting for David to admit he was right.

"My question for you, Mr. Anderson, is do you remember any newcomers to town that day? Paying for rent here?"

"Newcomers? Do elaborate, Agent Wilson."

After a moment of clear irritation, Wilson continued, "People who looked strange. Outer town. Hadn't seen 'em before. Reports have it that the perpetrator of the killing's was an outsider."

David smoked the last of his cigarette, putting it out in the ashtray on the reception desk. The Englishman took this minute to think hard, or at least pretend to. Vic kept watching closely, the Pinkerton still shooting him curious looks but staying mainly on David.

"As I say, memory is fuzzy, Agent." David replied, feigning ignorance, "And given this establishment is a _hotel_, meant for the purpose of housing visitors, most of our customers and clients _are_ outsider's."

Wilson then found _himself_ a loss for words, which both Vic and David took note of. The agent looked as pissed off as ever and stared at both men. He even glared at Shelly, who was just sitting logging the hotel's accounts.

"You fuckin' lying to me, Mr. Anderson?" The agent asked through a clenched jaw.

David put on a false confused face, looked at Vic and then back to Wilson, "No. Of course not, Agent. As you can see by my companion here, I am very law abiding gentleman."

Wilson kept staring, this time more so at Vic. The Tumbleweed Deputy found it no problem returning the eyes, which only led to the Pinkerton walking over to him, not even looking at David as he passed him by.

"You don't look like one of us." Wilson remarked, checking Vic up and down, "But you don't look like you're from around this place either."

"Deputy from Tumbleweed, Agent." Vic replied, "Deputy Vic Noble."

Wilson scoffed, "Deputy from where?"

"Tumbleweed. Town out west in New Austin."

"Never heard of it myself."

"Yeah, probably 'cause you Pinkerton boys don't like doin' business out there. You leave it all to people like me." Vic replied, with a cynical smirk.

Wilson gritted his teeth once again but this time it was beyond a similar grin to the one Vic was giving him. David watched them both closely, as did Shelly too. The encounter seemed to them rather tense.

"What exactly are you here lookin' for, _Deputy_?" Wilson asked, feeling he had the right.

"Could ask you the same thing, _Agent_." Vic replied, blankly, the smirk gone.

"I'm looking to take down the evil, deranged piece of filth that killed the innocent people here." Wilson replied with ease. The Pinkerton didn't care who he revealed his business to, because nobody could interfere.

"Ah... Just so happens that I'm here on the same job." Vic then grinned, "Maybe I'll send you some mail if I come across him first. You got an address?"

Wilson laughed quietly. He was above working with a simple deputy, let alone a deputy from a place nobody even knew existed. For all the Pinkerton knew, Vic could've been bullshitting him. Maybe Tumbleweed wasn't even a real place. Perhaps this mysterious Deputy was leading him astray.

Instead of humouring Vic any longer, Agent Wilson turned and started heading for the door again, giving David almost less attention as he passed him again.

"I'll let you continue your own investigation, Deputy Noble. I don't need any interference with mine. Do hope yours is goin' well though." Wilson said looking back, with no honesty at all.

Vic smiled again and took a drag of his smoke, "Rest assured, Agent Wilson. If I find Roland Payne before you, I'll send him your kind regards."

Wilson stopped in the doorway and glanced back again with a grin, "Never heard that name before, Deputy. I'm after a young man named _Sawyer_."

Vic's smile fell in a flash and he almost coughed on his cigarette, something he hadn't done since he was a teenager. Even David looked confused at the Pinkerton's revelation. Saying he'd never heard of Roland Payne _had_ to be a lie, Vic thought. How could he possibly not have heard of Roland and be after just Sawyer instead? And it was at that moment Vic worked it out. Didn't take him long at all. He'd heard many bad stories about the Pinkerton's, but only then did he start believing them. Agent Wilson was after Sawyer, pretending not to know Roland Payne, because he was working _with_ Roland Payne.

"Be seein' you." Wilson then said, sneering and casually saluting before marching out the door.

Vic stood frozen, still stunned. All he could do was finish his smoke and wonder what his next move had to be. If his job wasn't already pretty hard, it had just been made a damn lot harder.


	13. Chapter XII

**CHAPTER XII**

**_WALLACE STATION, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 8TH 1900_**

"_Thirteen dollars?!_" Ellie asked in angry confusion, "You got any fuckin' idea what I had to do to find that thing?!"

"It is _a ring, _madam!" The elder storekeeper shouted back, though not as loud, "Probably not even real silver! And it's rusted!"

Ellie slammed both her fists on the counter for about the fourth time, "Only thing that's rusted around here is your fuckin' old ass!"

The feisty huntress had been trying to sell the tiny trinket she'd found up by the river for about a half hour. Sawyer, bored of watching Ellie haggle and afraid the shopkeeper would recognize him, had gone outside onto the store's deck to wait it out. But even outside in the open air the outlaw could still hear the argument going on. He didn't know whether to let Ellie be and see how far she could push the old guy, or go back in and try to drag her out. Knowing the latter choice would be near impossible, Sawyer quite happily went for the first option.

Wallace Station was, to Sawyers surprise, rather quieter than he remembered. The last time he was there, weeks before with Roland prior to the events in Strawberry, it was pretty busy. Lots of traders were coming through to sell their wares while other's were getting onto the train in the hopes of big adventures and happier lives in Saint Denis. If only they knew how grim and miserable that beautiful-looking city really was, Sawyer thought.

Now the fugitive found himself back across state lines and in the land of West Elizabeth, where he was _still_ wanted. After Ellie had found her trinket, they'd both stopped off in Valentine first like Vic had asked to pick up his pearlescent horse, April. Glorious mare, Sawyer thought. She'd never twitched or buckled once while underneath Ellie. And even when the young outlaw himself petted her and fed her a carrot, she seemed quite comfortable. Was almost as if Sawyer could tell she belonged to a man of the law. All horses owned by lawmen seemed different from the rest. April was at all times calm, yet when necessary, she could launch into a gallop faster than most other mare's he'd seen. Definitely a horse of authority.

Light was fading as the sun lowered, down onto the horizon beyond the trees. Sawyer was relieved, as it meant the chance of being noticed by anyone was getting slimmer. Since passing into West Elizabeth, he'd consciously tried to conceal his face more often than usual. Sure, he was clean shaven, but it didn't hurt to have just a little extra help. So he'd taken to using his red bandana a little more when he could, whether it be to wipe his face or pretend to cough. He just wished Ellie would hurry her ass up so they could move on. At this point, Sawyer found being horseback and on a gentle trot across the dirt-path a lot safer than just hanging around in one place.

"_Listen here, you rude little thing!_" He then heard the owner suddenly shout.

Sawyer himself winced at that comment, waiting for the big bang.

"_No you listen you ancient old fucker!_" Ellie yelled back, kicking again at the hardwood counter, "_Good friend of mine is a fuckin' deputy! And if I go back and tell him you spoke down to me, refused to give me the right wad of cash, he'll come back here and shut this shitpit down!_"

The young outlaw, outside in the cooler air, laughed into his bandana. Trying hard not to draw the attention of the two old guys sitting on the benches under the wooden shelter, reading their newspapers. No doubt there was an article about him and Roland in there somewhere. Still, their attention was being drawn to the store, thanks to the banging and clanking from inside.

"_Alright! Just stop kicking my things!"_ The owner cried out before yielding, "_If I give you twenty dollars, will you leave my store?!_"

"_Make it thirty and we've got a deal!"_ Ellie demanded, with a hint of evil.

The young girl looked pretty darn happy with herself when she kicked open the store door and walked back out. Sawyer's concerned eyes fixated on her right away. Ellie looked as satisfied as a wolf who'd just caught an elk. She was smirking at him like she'd just pulled off the most daring robbery.

"Fuckin' cakewalk." The huntress said, smiling and counting the cash.

"Trashing the poor guy's livelihood until he pay's up just to get you to _leave_? You call _that_ a cakewalk?" Sawyer asked, amazed.

Ellie grimaced, "Well what would you call it?"

"I'd call it robbery, in a funny kinda way."

"Yeah well, let's be real, you'd know more about that than me now wouldn't ya?" Ellie replied with a mocking grin.

Sawyer sighed and shook his head, "Suppose so. Except what _you_ just did was _legal_. Fuckin' world confuses me."

"Ain't hard." She said under her breath again, packing the money in the satchel on April's saddle.

The young outlaw glared and turned back around to say something in his own defense. As he did, the girl was already climbing the stirrups onto the shiny white mare. By the time she was at the top, she was grinning down at him, taking any chance of a comeback away.

"What're ya waiting for?" She asked the tongue-tied outlaw, "Sun's droppin'. Gotta get to Strawberry soon, don't we?"

Sawyer looked up at her with a gaping mouth and wide eyes for a few seconds before smiling again. He knew she didn't really mean any harm, he'd just been trained since childhood to be on his guard. His time on the road with Roland had not helped that feeling either, yet his time on the path with Ellie had shown him that there wasn't always a need for it. Even if she seemed scarier than most _men_ he'd crossed paths with throughout his short life, there was a certain kindness to her.

At long last the young fugitive climbed into Neigan's saddle and both he and Ellie gripped their respective reins and set both the stallion and the mare off into power-trots. Within minutes, under the curious eyes of the two fella's under the station's shelter, they were outer sight and on their way further south.

The mood was calm and easy as Sawyer and Ellie made their way across the plains. The land around them had turned a luminous orange thanks to the glow of the ever lowering sun. Everything around them was peaceful and almost mystical. Birds were flying overhead and the breeze in the air was cool. The young outlaw found it a pleasure to see Ellie's face when they both witnessed packs of Deer and Bison running across the dimly lit fields of West Elizabeth. The deer were beautiful to watch on one side, but the girl found the Bison to be more interesting.

"Whoa!" She yelled in awe, "What the hell are those!?"

"They're called Bisons!"

Ellie quietly gasped, "They look like weird, sweaty cows!"

Sawyer just smiled contently. That was the oddest yet accurate description of Bison he'd ever heard. The girl had a way with words, he had to admit.

"You seriously never seen anything like that before?!" He yelled out.

"Never!" Ellie said back, "Back home I've barely seen any thing other than cows and pigs! But those things are fuckin' big!"

The outlaw chuckled, "Yeah, you don't want one of those things chargin' at ya! Keep well away from 'em if you see any on foot!"

Ellie scoffed arrogantly, "Please! I could take one of those fuckers down easy with my bow!"

"Can't argue against ya bow skills!" Sawyer shouted, "But it'd take around a hundred arrows to get a Bison on the dirt!"

"Not if you get one or two hit in the right place!" Ellie called out.

Sawyer couldn't argue against that point. Precision and timing is everything. After all, if he himself had been a little faster with the trigger that night, Roland Payne would be dead and Sawyer wouldn't be in his current predicament. The young outlaw had no godly idea how Vic thought they were gonna intercept Roland in Saint Denis and stop the bank robbery. But he had to trust his newfound 'friend' if he wanted any real chance of finally putting that evil piece of filth in the ground forever.

The outlaw could finally, unlike last time, bask in the gorgeous beauty of West Elizabeth. The state where he could be hanged for his past crimes if he were seen by the wrong person. It was a different kinda place than New Hanover. The plains of West Elizabeth seemed to stretch for miles with hardly any trees in sight. All Sawyer could see as he and Ellie galloped down the dusty road was lush, grassy hills, illuminated only by the disappearing sun. The journey eventually took them into an open ravine where they crossed a more shallow Dakota River. Shortly after, they were back up on dry land and were again faced with a long expanse of sunlit hills.

"So what're you gonna do after all this?!" Ellie suddenly asked from across the path.

Sawyer looked over, "How d'ya mean?!"

"Like after you've killed this Roland fucker!" She said, "What do ya plan on doin'?!"

Definitely something Sawyer hadn't given as much of a thought to. After being so all consumed by his quest for payback against Roland, he'd never imagined what life was gonna be like on the other side of that journey. It seemed the relentless and powerful need to see Roland Payne die had become his only real goal in life. Yet he would have so much time left to live afterwards..

"Can't say I've thought about it!" Sawyer replied, "Suppose I've just been livin' under the idea that... Killin' him is probably gonna kill _me_ too!"

"You don't know that!" Ellie said, hanging onto the reins tightly, "Maybe it'd be worth thinkin' about, Sawyer!"

Sawyer laughed again, "What the fuck are _my_ prospects?!"

"Huh?!" She called out in confusion.

"I said, what plans could _I_ possibly have?!" Sawyer repeated, "What kinda future could I possibly fuckin' expect after everything _I've_ done?!"

"You're tryin' to do the right thing ain't ya?!" Ellie asked, "There'll be a place for you somewhere once we're through with all this!"

No response could be found at that point. Sawyer found himself surprised all the time at the girl's lack of judgement. Was she just naive? Or had all the years of isolation in one New Austin town made her realize there was more to life? The outlaw didn't even want to ask. Ellie may have came out with some unintended wisdom at times, but she would probably tear him apart again if he asked such a complex question.

Yet the fugitive couldn't deny that the huntress had brought something to his mind that hadn't been there before. Since he'd woken up in Emerald Ranch, he'd thought of nothing at all but getting to Roland and putting an end to him. So much so that it had never crossed his young mind what he planned to do after he was through with his mission, given he was still _living_ when everything was said and done. Maybe it _was_ something to think about for the rest of their journey south back to Strawberry.

"I guess I _will_ give it some thought!" Sawyer said, "Thanks!"

Ellie frowned and looked over, "For what?!"

"Nothin'!" He chuckled once again, "Come on then, we got another hour or so before we hit Strawberry! You've missed Vic, ain't ya?!"

Ellie smiled to herself with a giggle, "I guess I _have_!"

Both the outlaw and the huntress kicked their thighs and got the horses moving a lot faster than they were. Light was fading, and time was running out with every gallop. Everything had gone to plan so far, which did _not_ ease the young outlaw's nerves.

The sun was finally gone, not even half an hour later. Luckily it didn't hinder the journey much for either Ellie _or_ Sawyer. Thanks to the clear and open fields of West Elizabeth, the night sky and the almost-full moon made sure they could still see which way they were heading. The terrain the horses rode on did gradually get steeper by the minute, given the fact that Strawberry was a mountain town, far above the open plains of the state.

Soon however, the young duo found themselves on a darker path thanks to a sudden abundance of trees. Moonlight was still managing to break through the pine branches and limbs, giving April and Neigan only a slight challenge when continuing on.

Sawyer looked over at April, who shone bright even in the darkness of the night. Such a gorgeous mare looked strange being ridden by such a small girl. Ellie was a young-adult, but her build was still small-framed. The outlaw thought it was a clear indication of how close Ellie and Vic were. If the girl could ride his pristine and clearly durable horse, then there was definitely a bond.

"So, you've known Vic all your life, huh?" Sawyer inquired.

Ellie looked at him through the dimness of the woods, "Yup. Since I was a babe in my Ma's arms."

"You been ridin' his horse for as long as that too?" The outlaw asked in wonder.

Ellie patted April on the neck, "Nah, only since he _got_ her. He brought her home when I was 'bout seven."

"She seem's real comfortable with you in the saddle."

"Probably 'cause I weigh as much as a leaf." Ellie giggled, "You should see her move when Vic's got her reins. She's as fast as a fuckin' bullet!"

Having observed the mare, Sawyer wasn't surprised, given she belonged to a deputy. He was more stunned that nobody had tried to steal her when she was left behind in Valentine for a day.

"Vic must've been doing his job a long time then, right?" The fugitive asked again, curious about the lawman.

"Forever. Since before even _I_ was born." Ellie said, "He's the best guy we got back home. All the other deputy's are kinda fuckwit's... Apart from Sheriff Freeman, he's a'ight I guess. Wouldn't wanna get on _his_ bad side, I know that."

Sawyer winced even in the dark, "How's the town still goin' strong then? If most of the lawmen there are pretty shitty at their job?"

"Weren't _always_ like that." She said, "Up until maybe a month ago, there was two other deputy's who protected the town pretty well. Vic was good pal's with 'em both."

"I'm gonna guess those were the two that got killed in Strawberry?" Sawyer asked, even though he knew he was right.

Ellie shrugged, "Maybe. He don't fuckin' tell me much. Think's I'm still a little kid."

"Well, I mean he..." Sawyer started.

When the huntress shot him a sudden wide eyed glare that pierced him even in the darkness of the road, the young outlaw froze in mid-sentence. After a brief tense moment, he thought it best that he finish, just to make her understand his point.

"... He needs to see that you ain't anymore, don't he?" Sawyer said with a smile, "That's why you're along with us, Ellie. He knows we need your help, otherwise he _might've_ just dumped you on that train this mornin'."

Hearing Sawyer say that actually made Ellie beam with delight. She knew herself that the guys would need her help, but finally hearing it from one of them really made it hit home. Finally, for once in her life, she felt like she was actually _needed_. And for that she was grateful.

"Thanks, Sawyer." Ellie said gently, "You're alright, you know that?"

Sawyer grinned to himself again and shook his head secretly in disagreement, "Appreciate that, Ellie. I really do."

The young outlaw and the huntress continued to trot on further up the steeper path. For another twenty or so minutes they journeyed in mutual and comfortable silence. Soon Ellie could feel her eyelids getting heavier after the long day and Sawyer could see that her posture was different. She kept leaning forward then propping herself back up. He just hoped dearly that she didn't fall off of the mare and force him to carry her the rest of the way. As much as he liked her, carrying her into Strawberry would _surely_ draw attention.

As he tried to move Neigan a little closer to April, in order to make sure Ellie wasn't asleep at the reins, a sudden rustling came from within the trees alongside them. Sawyer quickly turned, drew his Schofield and pulled the hammer back.

Grabbing both reins and pulling hard, Sawyer managed to get Neigan _and_ April to stop in their tracks. Ellie was gently nudged awake again by the sudden stop.

"_Wha's goin' on?!" _Ellie asked in a sleepy stupor.

Sawyer aimed his revolver out in the direction of the snapping twigs and the sound of footsteps. They were coming from just up ahead on the side of the dirt-path. Other than those noises, everything fell silent. Even Ellie didn't make a single sound. Sawyer thought about calling out to get whoever it was to reveal themselves. Before he could even settle that debate in his head, the stranger ended up just stumbling on out of the bushes and trees on their own.

Whilst keeping his gun aimed at the fella, the outlaw felt puzzled to say the least. The man was stumbling around almost cheerfully. He didn't look drunk, or at least not like any drunkard Sawyer had ever seen before. Listening carefully, he could even hear the stranger calmly humming tunes to himself while gently bouncing to them in mid-stumble.

Sawyer sharply checked his flanks to make sure it wasn't some kind of distraction for an ambush. He'd fallen for _one_ of them in the past two days, but it wasn't gonna happen again. But to his surprise, there was still nothing but the sound of a breeze hitting the shrubs and the grass. And of course, the noise of the man humming gleefully to himself was still there.

The young fugitive was at a loss as to what to make of it, so he decided to climb down off of Neigan and go see who the fella was. He knew it could be a risk but it was one he felt confident in taking. After all, the guy seemed like he wasn't all there. So what kinda threat could he possibly pose? Sawyer thought.

"Stay..." The outlaw whispered to Neigan, who understood his owner and then stuck to his ground.

Sawyer then crept slowly up the dark road, Schofield still aimed out. The stranger had slowed down from walking to taking practically one or two steps a minute. The closer the outlaw got to the weird man, the more he could smell a rather sickly yet fruity scent. It was a sweet smell, but _so_ sweet it was making Sawyer a little lightheaded. Maybe this fella had been overcome by fumes somewhere and was now out of his mind.

"Hold up there, pal." The fugitive then sternly called out.

Instantly, the smelly stranger put both his arms up in the air.

"Wasn't me, old chap!" The man replied in a strange accent, "It was Roy that slept with her, not me, I can assure you!"

Wincing in annoyance, Sawyer grabbed the man by his shoulder and spun him around. To the outlaw's surprise, the guy was smiling to himself but with his eyes half shut. Was this a joke? Was what he _said_ a joke? Sawyer couldn't work it out.

"What're you fuckin' talkin' about?" He asked the stranger, "Lift up your shirt and drop any weapons, now."

"No weapons, I'm afraid." The stranger replied after kissing his teeth, "I am never an armed man, due to my sight being poor."

Sawyer kept the Schofield aimed in the stranger's face and decided to lift the shirt himself. It was underneath a ragged, unbuttoned and unwashed waistcoat. And underneath it _all_ revealed the stranger was indeed telling the truth. No firearms or even any knives, just a little tiny square tin tucked between the man's trousers and his belly. Curious about it, the outlaw took the tin.

"What's this for?" Sawyer asked, gun still pointed.

"Anybody, sir." The stranger replied with a smirk, "Help yourself. Please."

Opening the tin, Sawyer found the source of the sweet, nauseating smell. Inside there was what looked like a crushed lump of some kind of plant. The odour was powerful, and seemed to infest the area quicker than a raging fire. So much so that it caused Sawyer to cough and Ellie to awake further.

"_Fuck's that smell?!_" Ellie shouted out, "_You feed your horse one too many apple's or somethin'?!_"

Sawyer refused the man's offer, closed the tin sharply and gave it back to him. Once he'd finished coughing and caught his breath, the inquiries continued.

"What the hell is that shit?" Sawyer asked, curious as hell.

The stranger tucked the tin back where it was, "That is the lord's plant, my dear boy. Good for everything. And what might they call yourself?"

"Uh." Sawyer didn't have an answer. He could not reveal his name to anyone.

"Neigan. His name's Neigan." Ellie said, suddenly trotting up alongside both men.

The fugitive's face twisted and he looked up at Ellie.

"_Ain't it?_" Ellie said, glaring with her eyes but smiling with her mouth.

Sawyer looked back to the stranger and held out his hand, "Yeah, Neigan. Nice to meet you, Mister uh?"

"Anderson." The man said, shaking Sawyer's hand, "Peter Anderson. Nice to meet you, Neigan. And who would be your cracking young companion?"

"My name's Ellie, mister." She said after giggling a little.

"Well nice to meet you, Elizabeth. Welcome to the land of your own name." Peter said calmly before taking note of the horse she rode on, "_OH!_ Is this _April!?_"

Sawyer and Ellie both shot each other confused looks. How the hell could he know a horse just by sight? In a land where they were sometimes more common than people.

Peter then stroked the gorgeous mare's snout, "April, you get more majestic and splendid every time I lay my eyes onto you."

"How the fuck do you know her name?" The girl asked, bemused.

Peter looked up, his smile still beaming even in the dark, "Oh she belongs to a friend of mine and my dear brother. A lawman, from far out in Tumblewood."

"Tumble_weed._" Ellie corrected him sharply, "Are you talkin' about Vic Noble?!"

Kissing his teeth again, Peter nodded slowly, "Certainly am, my dear. Might I ask why he has parted with this delightful creature?"

"We're bringin' her back to him." Sawyer then joined in, holstering the Schofield, "As it happens, Vic's already in Strawberry. We've been headin' there to meet him. Long story, gotta admit."

"Ah, well regrettably you won't have long to tell it, old boy." Peter said before pointing up the road, "Strawberry is coming up just a ways around that corner."

"Oh thank the fuckin' lord." Ellie said, "I need to lay myself down."

Sawyer looked up ahead and then back to Peter, "You uh... Need a ride the rest of the way?"

Peter contemplated the offer for a little while, making both Sawyer and Ellie a little impatient. While he thought it over, he even started humming tunes and bobbing around to them again.

Ellie slyly looked at Sawyer and made a twirling gesture with her hand near her head. Sawyer wanted to laugh a little but didn't wanna be rude to the polite man.

"Yes! If that's alright with you Neigan, dear chap." Peter finally replied, causing the young fugitive to cringe.

Within a minute, both Sawyer and Peter had climbed up onto Neigan, the horse which the weird man had thankfully not asked the name of. The outlaw could see his horse was already a little irritated by the unfamiliar mounter. Maybe it was the sickly, potent smell of the plant in Peter's tin.

"Easy, boy." Sawyer patted Neigan's neck, "Ain't for too long."

"Sorry, old sport?" Peter asked, having just been in a half-eyed trance.

"He said the _trip's been long_." Ellie spoke up, "We're just fuckin' glad to have finally got where we're supposed to be."

Peter smiled wide and nodded again, "Oh I bet. Well I can confidently say, any friend of Vic's is a friend of the Anderson's. You will both be_ more_ than welcome in our establishment."

"We appreciate it, Peter. Thank you kindly." Sawyer said looking back.

The reins of both Neigan and April got whipped and the two horses set off into a powerful gallop immediately. Sawyer and Ellie had managed to get all the way from the Cumberland Forest to Strawberry, picking up Vic's horse on the way. And they'd even somehow managed to bump into one of Vic's contacts by pure coincidence. As odd as he was, Peter seemed like a kind enough fella, Sawyer thought.

But naturally, the outlaw's main thought now was their next move. Now that they were about to enter the town in which he and Roland had caused so much hell, weeks before, what was the plan to be in order to get _back_ to Roland? Sawyer was tired from the journey but even _he_ knew the he wasn't gonna be able to rest until he had an answer to that question.


	14. Chapter XIII

**CHAPTER XIII**

**_STRAWBERRY, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 8TH 1900_**

David lit a third lantern in the hidden basement of his hotel, giving the chilly cellar some light and a little more warmth.

Vic was sat at the desk again, holding a burning cigarette between his lips and looking over a small map of Big Valley. The deputy had been relieved when he saw Ellie and Sawyer finally trot into Strawberry, after hours of sitting unsure about his two young companions, even more so after Agent Wilson's unsettling departure. Vic hadn't been able to sit calm _since_ the Pinkerton left and had practically gone through a full pack of smokes within a few hours.

Sawyer and Ellie had brought David's oddball brother, Peter, back with them too. This gave the well-dressed Englishman some relief also, as Peter was who they all needed to take the next steps in their mission. He had the information on the shipment of weapons up at Fort Riggs, but he'd gone to eat some supper in his hotel suite immediately upon his return, so the info hadn't been given out just yet.

"Once my dear, indolent brother has satisfied his plant-induced hunger, I will send him down here to you all and make him relay what he discovered at the Fort." David assured the trio whilst sitting across from Vic.

Sawyer was lying on a camp-bed in one corner of the basement while Ellie roamed around the room aimlessly, picking up trinkets, looking at guns and bullets. David found her rather amusing and kept smiling at her actions.

"Is this the young one you have told us all about, Victor?" David asked, pointing calmly, "The little girl you've doted on for years?"

Ellie quickly span around, "I ain't a fuckin' little girl."

"He's kiddin'!" Vic said loudly, still staring at the map, "Sorry, David. She can be highly strung at times."

David chuckled while rubbing his moustache, "No, madam! Of course you aren't a little girl! After all, you did help get my beloved sibling back in one piece. Not the first time he's been found wandering the trees, mind you. Quite surprised he hasn't been turned into grizzly dropping's by now."

That made the young huntress giggle. She'd definitely held her own in the last few days. Vic and Sawyer had both seen it, the latter even more so.

"I guess he can hold _his_ own more than you give him credit for then, huh?" Ellie asked, glaring and grinning.

David smiled with delight, "You would probably be right on that, madam. At the end of the day, I _do_ send him out to do many important tasks, and he has yet to really let me down. However his punctuality does leave a lot to be desired."

The young huntress snorted with laughter and kept inspecting any small and shiny object she could find.

Sawyer hadn't really said much since he and Ellie had hitched the horses outside the Welcome Center. Now actually being _in_ Strawberry again, the young outlaw's fear of being recognised was at a new level. David, the owner of the hotel, had been pretty polite and accommodating to him so far. But Sawyer couldn't tell whether or not the Englishman really _did_ know who he was but was letting it slide because he was such good friends with Vic. Instead of finding out and pushing his luck with it all, Sawyer felt it better he just lay back and let Vic do any talking.

Vic let out another long sigh, exhaling a cloud of smoke in the process. The lawman had been looking at the Big Valley map for quite some time. Clearly he was thinking hard about _something_, Sawyer noticed, but he'd not said much about it. Other than a typical greeting and thanking him and Ellie for bringing April back, Vic hadn't said much of anything for almost an hour. Something was weighing on his mind, so much so that even Ellie could tell. But as of yet, he'd let nothing slip as to what it may be.

"Well I think it would be polite of me to let the three of you fine people catch up with one another!" David said at last, standing up from the desk.

The well-dressed hotel manger than pointed to Sawyer and Ellie, "The day must have been quite long for the _two of you_ aswell."

Sawyer looked up at David and nodded calmly, feeling he had better be polite to the owner since he _was_ giving them a bed for free. Ellie also gave the older gentleman a smile and tipped her overly large hat to him.

"Do help yourselves to any of the drinks and canned goods we have in the crates." David also said, gesturing his hand, "Hardly haute cuisine, but it should absolutely fill your empty bellies."

Sawyer then quickly sat up from the camp-bed and looked towards the boxes, "Ah. Much obliged, Mr. Anderson."

David smiled again and nodded, "Do call me 'David', Mr. Sawyer. I find myself fortunate to have a first name, unlike yourself, and therefore must make the most of having it used."

With that, Sawyer knew that the hotel manager knew exactly who he was. Vic had most probably told him, maybe even _forced_ to. But the posh guy was still happy to give him a place to stay outer the view of Strawberry's people. And for that Sawyer would show nothing but gratitude.

"Sure thing, uh David." Said the outlaw, "Many thanks to ya."

The hotel owner bowed slightly and then made his way up the concrete stairwell and into the lobby, leaving the trio downstairs to their own devices. Sawyer was the first to move, going straight for the small crates and rummaging through it to see what there was to drink.

"Thirsty?" Ellie asked, turning at the noise of bottles clanking.

Sawyer shrugged while inspecting the bottles, "Haven't had a _real_ drink in almost two fuckin' days. Plus I gotta say, I'm a little on edge here considerin' I could have my neck snapped at any moment."

Vic looked up from the map finally, "Quite whining, kid. That ain't gonna happen."

"I guess it isn't... But it would've been better if you kept who I was a little closer to your chest though, wouldn't it?" Sawyer replied, looking back.

"Look, the man ain't stupid." Vic said after shrugging, "I stroll into his place asking for help, he's got the right to know the story, ain't he?"

"Guess he does." Sawyer said, looking at a bottle of bourbon, "Even so... You're tellin' me that fella's a'ight with me bein' here?"

Vic finished his smoke and crushed away the ember, "You wouldn't be sittin' down here if he wasn't. Now have faith in me, would ya? And bring that bottle over here."

Sawyer chose the bottle of bourbon, put the crate back down in the corner and made his way over to the desk. The outlaw passed Vic the bottle and then sat down on the other side.

Ellie was still distracted at the other side of the cool, concrete room staring at bullet casings and a bandolier, something that she picked up and examined like it had fallen from the sky. Having only ever used knives and a bow, the girl was unfamiliar with the world of firearms and their accessories. Given that the ultimate goal at present was finding Roland Payne, stopping a bank robbery and putting him six feet under, Vic had been tinkering with the idea of teaching her how to shoot and giving her a gun. After all, if things got a little more heated, up close and personal, a bow wasn't gonna do her any good.

Vic removed the cork from the bottle and poured two doubles. One for him and one for Sawyer. Ellie noticed this right away after hearing the cork get pulled out.

"How 'bout one for me?" She asked eagerly after suddenly storming over.

Vic scoffed, "Nah, I don't think so."

"Oh come on! _Please?!_" Ellie then yelled a little, almost stomping her foot.

"Ain't old enough, Ellie." Vic replied with a smirk, "I don't give a shit how polite you are, you ain't gettin' one."

"I'm fuckin' old enough, Vic!"

"You _ain't_ old enough." Vic stated with a smile, "Sixteen ain't old enough."

"It is." Sawyer suddenly piped up.

Both natives of New Austin then looked towards the outlaw. They froze in position, waiting for him to elaborate.

"What?" He asked, "It's true... In West Elizabeth and New Hanover, sixteen is an accepted drinkin' age. A little leeway's even given for fifteen too."

Vic stared at Sawyer in a weird cross between anger and disbelief. The young fella had practically taken all power away from the deputy when it came to Ellie. Of course, Vic knew he wasn't completely in control of his young friend's life, but he still felt responsible for her to a degree and wanted to make sure she was safe. And for some reason, drinking had always been a no-go rule with him. Now even _that_ had been taken away.

Ellie smirked down at her best-friend, "There you fuckin' go. Heard it from the horses mouth, Vic."

Vic looked back up at her with a gaping jaw, darting back and fourth between the girl and Sawyer. He tried to say something but every word and sentence died before they even got to his throat.

"Just pour me a drink, you fuckin' bore." Ellie giggled, grabbing a third glass, "I ain't a kid, Vic. And I weren't gonna be one forever!"

After laying her glass on the table, Ellie looked at Sawyer and smiled with gratitude and then smirked with confidence at Vic. After another silent moment, the Tumbleweed lawman groaned aloud, yielding and even grinning himself. He'd been defeated on the subject.

"A'ight. You can have _one_." Vic told her, pouring the dark, golden drink.

Ellie glared again, "Just _one_?! You forgettin' the rules here?"

Vic laughed, "Nah, I know the rules, Ellie. You can have more than one... If you can _handle_ more than one."

The deputy looked up at her and chuckled. Even Sawyer joined in laughing too. Ellie thought about knocking both guys' teeth out for a second but soon relented and joined in on the laughs.

"There you go." Vic said, handing her the glass.

Ellie smelt the drink, twisting and moaning at the stench, before taking a sip. As it burned away her throat she coughed for a good few seconds, causing both men to giggle a little to themselves like kids.

"Atta girl." Vic said, lighting another smoke and looking back at the map.

"Gotta another one of those?" Sawyer asked after taking a drink.

Vic looked up at Sawyer slowly. He didn't normally give out cigarettes, but then again, he'd never really been asked for one by anybody. After a moment of thought, Vic pulled out the pack and held it out to the outlaw who promptly took one.

"You got one for-

"Don't even _go_ there." Vic turned to Ellie, cutting her off with a cold stare.

Even the huntress didn't feel like pushing her luck any further after that. Vic had finally, after sixteen long years, willingly let her have a drink. She knew she should've felt fortunate enough about that, so didn't ask for a smoke again.

After lighting Sawyer's cigarette for him, Vic continued to look down at the map.

"What's got you all focused on Big Valley?" The outlaw asked.

"The job we gotta do." Vic replied without looking up.

"Job? Besides the one down in Saint Denis?"

"Yup, there's somethin' else we gotta do first. Somethin' for our hosts upstairs." Vic revealed to Sawyer.

Sawyer's brows lowered and he looked puzzled towards Vic. Time was of the essence when it came to Roland, so the idea of going off-path for something else bothered him slightly. He finished his drink and poured another immediately.

"A'ight, go on." Sawyer said, pouring.

"Well, I came here asking David for a decent amount of arms to stop Payne and his merry-men from robbing that bank." Vic said, "Turns out, I asked at the exact time that he'd hit a snag in his weapon-dealing operation. The next shipment that was due to be his has been seized by the Army, and is now under guard up at Fort Riggs."

"Where the brother came from." Sawyer stated in realisation.

"Right. Now what David wants us to do is help him out." Vic said, taking a drink, "Head on up there, take the shipment and bring it back here. Whatever we need to stop that bank robbery is then ours for free."

Sawyer looked from Vic to the map and then away from the desk all together. He sipped at his bourbon in wonder, thinking about what they'd have to do in order to complete that mission. If the shipment was under watch by the Army, then they'd have to do some serious infiltration, Sawyer thought. Either that or go in guns-blazing which he didn't imagine was Vic's style, given the Army were technically innocent people.

"What exactly is in this shipment?" Sawyer asked.

Vic took a long drag of the cigarette and let out the smoke, "Rifles, shotguns, pistols and even dynamite. But most important, it's got a shit-load of ammo. Somethin' _we_ don't have."

Sawyer took a longer drag himself, "And our _host_ wants us to storm Fort Riggs, take on the Army itself, grab the shipment and somehow bring it back here and live to tell the tale?"

After consulting the map, thinking to himself and finishing off his drink, Vic glared and nodded.

"Please tell me... That you know we can't do that." Sawyer said grimly, "Please, tell me that, Vic."

Before Vic could reply, both men were interrupted by Ellie, who suddenly grabbed the bottle of bourbon and poured herself another drink. Upon seeing her, both guys saw that her eyes were a little glazed over. She'd managed to finish the first glass, but looked as though another might put her to sleep.

"You sure about that, Ellie?" Vic asked, smirking and relishing the moment.

Ellie frowned at Vic, one eye shut, "I'm sure... Continue with your, ya know... Talk."

After staring at one another, wanting to laugh but afraid of doing so, Sawyer and Vic poured themselves another drink each and continued on.

"By 'we can't do that' please tell me what you mean, kid." Vic asked, smoking.

Sawyer leaned forward onto the table, "I mean... We'd have to kill an entire regiment of the Army. We can't do that without drawing _some_ attention."

"Who said anything about _killing_ 'em?" Vic asked, "I ain't gonna kill any soldier, Sawyer. They got a job to do, just like myself. And I'm not about to shoot 'em for doin' it."

Sawyer scoffed while drinking, "So what do you expect we do then, huh? Just trot on into the Fort, all gleaming from ear to ear and just say, 'Howdy, boys. I know you don't know us, but we're men of the law and just wanted to ask if we could borrow your stockpile of weapons, explosives and ammunition please. Just for personal use.' I doubt we'd get as far as three yards before they mowed us down."

"Not really what I pictured." Vic growled, his patience thinning, "I thought, more or less, that we could just sneak in. Take the shipment and leave."

Sawyer moaned hard out loud and scrunched up his own face with his hands, "It don't work that way, Vic. And you _know _it!"

Again, before Vic could form a response, he saw Ellie in the corner of his eye. She finished her second drink and looked as though she was about to pass out in her seat.

Sawyer and Vic again both laughed quietly to themselves before the lawman noticed that she was about to drop her empty glass. Sawyer quickly bolted from his seat and caught it before it shattered.

"Best take her to bed, I reckon." Sawyer advised to his deputy companion.

"Yeah I reckon you're right, kid." Vic replied.

Quietly and gently, Vic picked Ellie up from the chair and into his arms. The deputy made sure he was as subtle with his movements as he could be, making sure not to wake her up. He chuckled gently to himself about it, knowing that it was gonna happen from the second he poured her a drink. Across the basement, in the corner, Vic laid her down onto the camp-bed. The only _real_ bed in the room.

Sawyer watched the lawman carry Ellie as though he'd done it a thousand times. Maybe not when she'd been drunk, since he could tell this was the first time for that. But it was suddenly obvious, if it hadn't been already, that Vic had carried her to bed many times through her life. As the deputy did it, it seemed almost like routine. Sawyer could do nothing but smile to himself. While the girl had never had her _real_ daddy to do it, she had the closest thing to it in Vic. It reminded the outlaw of his own, less than meaningful and parent-less childhood. The outlaw had always put himself to bed, no matter his age, and he suddenly found that quite sad.

Vic stroked her hair a little and then made his way back to the desk. Sawyer finished his drink and then poured another.

"She's fuckin' out cold." Vic said with a chuckle, "What the hell you two been doin' all day?"

Sawyer passed the bottle, "We found that 'treasure' she kept harpin' on about. Or... _She_ found it."

"Oh yeah? What'd it turn out to be?" Vic asked, pouring, "Lump of shit?"

"No, a ring." The outlaw said, "Little rusty thing, probably dumped out by a wolf at some point though."

Vic drank his whole glass off in one go, growled out a burp, then poured again. Cigarette was almost done too, so he pulled out another in preparation.

"Didn't really sell it though. She practically fuckin' destroyed a store at Wallace Station because the fella wouldn't pay up what she thought it was worth." Sawyer told Vic, with a humoured smile.

Vic shook his head, "Oh Ellie's a fuckin' wild one a'ight."

Sawyer quickly looked over his shoulder at her, as she slept soundly, "Don't I know it."

"Thanks for keepin' an eye on her." Vic nodded at Sawyer, "You definitely proved that I can trust ya."

"You sayin' I hadn't done that already?" Sawyer asked with a little surprise.

Vic finished the latest smoke, "I guess you had in a way. But remember, that girl over there means more to me than _myself_."

Sawyer's face went blank as he listened. Vic lit another cigarette, puffing at it perpetually, before continuing.

"The fact that even _she_ vouches for you... Means somethin'. So many thanks, Sawyer." The lawman said, with a genuine, grateful look.

Sawyer smiled modestly and nodded at his acquaintance, raising his glass. Vic soon did the same and both men clinked glasses, followed by a decent sip from both. The outlaw felt, for the first time in a long while, that he was actually liked by some people. Vic seemed to like him, to whatever degree the deputy could. And Ellie most certainly liked him. All day she'd acted like he'd been there, as a friend, by her side, all her life. Given she didn't usually have the same attitude with most other folks, Sawyer felt a tad honoured by it.

"So, that mean I get to ask what's botherin' you?" Sawyer felt he could enquire.

Vic looked sharply at the outlaw, "Botherin' me?"

"Yup. Come on, Vic, we've all noticed it since we got here." Sawyer said, leaning closer in again, "You've been smoking like a fucking log fire, drinking like a goddamn fish and hardly said more than a few sentences. Just would like to know what's goin' on is all."

Vic looked at Sawyer, wondering whether or not to tell him about the Pinkerton. The maverick lawman took a long and hard drag from his cigarette and held the smoke in for longer than usual. After exhaling the cloud and thinking hard, he felt it best to speak about it.

"A'ight. Earlier today... When I got into Strawberry. I did whatever business I needed to do with David, as usual." Vic said, "All we had to do next was wait on you and Ellie. But then, upstairs, in walked a fuckin' Pinkerton."

Sawyer's brows went up like a lightning flash, "You're fuckin' kiddin'?"

"Wish I fuckin' was, kid." Vic replied, sighing, "Now usually I'd turn my nose away from those asshole's, and I _tried to_. But it wasn't any good, 'cause he was here..."

Vic didn't finish the sentence right away. He instead took another big drag, leaving Sawyer hanging.

"Here for _what_ exactly?" The outlaw asked, wincing with little patience.

"Here looking for _you_." Vic finally revealed.

Sawyer didn't look surprised at that revelation, Vic noticed. The young fugitive was, after all, wanted by the entirety of West Elizabeth. But there was something different to the reaction he gave about the Pinkerton. Something felt real off about it, Vic thought right away.

The lawman kept drinking the bourbon, "Look, I gotta be straight with you, kid. There was somethin' real fucking weird about the guy. I think he's on the same page as our buddy Roland out there."

Sawyer finished his drink and didn't have any expression, "Agent Wilson, I'm gonna guess?"

Vic almost coughed on the smoke he'd gotten so used to. It had played on his mind for hours after the Pinkerton left. How he was gonna explain it to Sawyer? What they were gonna have to do about it? Yet lo and behold, the kid already knew about him.

"You _know_ that cocksucker?!" Vic asked, shouting as loud as he could without disturbing Ellie.

Sawyer nodded sharply, looking at Vic with a face that said a lot. But before he could actually say something else on the subject, both men heard the door at the top of the steps open up and close again, followed by the gentle patter of feet coming down.

Sawyer drank off his bourbon and so did Vic, who also finished the latest smoke. They both knew who was coming down so, without words, agreed to leave the Pinkerton topic be for now. First things were first, and they had to get the sit-rep from Peter before anything else, who soon bobbed his way down into the cellar. He stank of the hemp plant again. Even in the dim light of the basement's lanterns his eyes were noticeably bloodshot. They didn't seem to have any white in them at all, just mostly pink, save for his pupils.

Vic and Sawyer shot each other a look of exhaustion, knowing he was probably gonna take an eternity to explain the situation. They watched as he looked them both up and down, inspected the room and noticed Ellie sleeping on the camp-bed.

"Aww, how bloody sweet." Peter said slowly with a huge grin, "How old is your young amigo, eh Vic?"

"Uh, sixteen. Seventeen in a few months, if my memory serves me good." Vic replied as quick as he could to make it register.

Peter tensed his mouth, sticking his lips outward like a newborn, "Huh. Fine young lady. Feisty, I like her. You'd both do well keeping her by your sides, gentlemen."

"We plan to, as much as we can." Sawyer said, "How much can you tell us about the Fort?"

Peter seemed to snap back to reality, "Ah, of course! You want to know the goings-on at Fort Riggs. The Army and their ever expanding, petulant lust for weaponry."

"If you _could_ please, Peter. We're short on time, so we'd appreciate the info fast." Vic said, gesturing to the map, "Could you give us a rundown of what we'd be facin'?"

Peter nodded casually, eyes half shut, and slowly moved himself towards the desk. His feet were bare and sparkling clean. Sawyer was stunned at it. How could the guy walk around barefoot on a cold, concrete floor? He was still wearing the same mucky clothes from when he and Ellie had found him, so why did he only wash his feet?

Eventually, after what seemed like an age to the two renegades, Peter dropped his ass into the chair. He inspected the map closely for a minute whilst fiddling with a worn pencil. Vic took the moment to pour him and Sawyer another drink. While Vic filled the glasses, Peter instinctively held the glass Ellie had used out. The deputy happily poured him a drink too, hoping the alcohol could speed him up somehow.

"So..." Peter started, taking a big gulp, "The Fort's wall... or fence if we're to be accurate... Is made purely of oak-wood beams. Most have leaned forward and weakened with time and age. There are plenty gaps between them that you could both slither on through."

Sawyer nodded fast, "Uh huh, yeah sure, what about you know... Numbers?"

Peter looked up at the outlaw with blank confusion.

"Soldiers." He then clarified.

"Oh yes, the soldiers." Peter realised, "Now I was performing recon for quite some time down there, both today and yesterday. From what I saw, there was around eight soldiers stationed there, maximum. Best guess."

Vic then nodded too, "A'ight, that's more than doable I reckon. What about the shipment? Is it big?"

"Big enough." Peter said before sipping again, "But not _too_ big. You could both rather comfortably separate the stock into two sacks to stow on both your horses."

"Positions? Like, where the soldier's usually stand guard? And the location of the shipment, if you remember." Sawyer asked, pointing down at the map, eagerly.

Peter took the pencil again and carefully started marking X's in specific areas.

"There's one guard post directly above the Fort on a small overlooking hill." Peter said, marking the spot, "There's always two soldiers relaxing up there, hardly doing any _actual_ guarding. They mostly just stand around scratching their scrotum's and smoking tobacco."

Peter then moved the pencil across the map, "Here, in the _main_ cabin, is where the Shipment is stored. Out of sight from the ever nosy and confident outlaw."

Sawyer took a drink for that comment, "That also where the other guy's in green are?"

"About three of them always stand around the cabin, yes." Peter nodded, marking another spot, "The remaining trio of Army personnel are scattered around the ever-falling fence. Keeping watch, better than the other's I would say. Almost got spotted by those three myself."

Vic sipped the bourbon, "Okay, so there's two guards up on a hill that don't really do their job. Another three sittin' on their asses outside the cabin where our guns are. And the last few are doing laps around the whole Fort, am I gettin' that right?"

Peter smiled, finished his drink and tapped the pencil on the desk, "Boom. Perfection, Victor."

Vic stood calm and quiet, the first time he'd displayed such a stance since Sawyer and Ellie had arrived in town. He thought deeply to himself for a minute, making Sawyer very interested in his thoughts. The outlaw knew better than to ask, though. When Vic looked the way he did at that moment, it was best to let him see those thoughts through to the end.

Whilst Vic stood pondering, Peter stood up slowly from the table, "Gentlemen, I will be upstairs awaiting your decisions in great confidence. I'll prepare the sacks for you."

"Thank you, Peter." Sawyer replied, nodding with a smile.

Peter then returned the gesture, "Pleasure. Oh and one last thing..."

The Anderson brother then walked over to a particularly longer crate in the corner of the cellar, next to the shelves of ammunition and bullet casings. He pulled it out fast, showing he had more strength than his body mass would have anyone believe. His actions even took the attention of the deep-thinking deputy. Peter then pushed off the crate's lid.

"For such a job, I imagine you both might need some extra firepower." Peter smirked, "Certainly not as much here as the shipment you'll be returning to my brother, but it should give you a slight bit of aid."

Sawyer and Vic looked at one another again, before thanking the eccentric Englishman standing before them once more. Peter soon danced his way up the concrete steps again, beating a tune from his lips as he ascended. Once the door at the top opened and closed again, Vic and Sawyer inspected the opened crate.

"Can't really see much." The outlaw said, "Hold on a minute."

Sawyer quickly scarpered across the cellar and grabbed the lit lantern next to the sleeping huntress who had started snoring weakly. He brought it back to Vic and the crate, holding it out to illuminate the contents within. Both men then glared in surprised at their findings.

"Not bad, eh kid?" Vic asked the outlaw.

"It's a'ight, I guess." Sawyer replied.

Vic reached into the crate and grabbed a Bolt-Action rifle. It was mostly made of an almost black coloured wood, with an iron barrel and trigger. The deputy tested the bolt handle, which seemed to work smoothly. Looking further in the crate, he took three small boxes of rounds for it.

"Looks good in your hands, Vic." Sawyer said, chuckling, "Reckon I already got everythin' I need though."

"What, a dirty old pump-action?" Vic then laughed, "That could jam at any fuckin' second, kid."

"Shotgun's make damn sure the job gets done. That's why I like using 'em."

"Wasn't the shotgun side of things I was getting at." Vic said, "It's the 'dirty' and 'old' side of it that I got beef with."

Sawyer looked confused and promptly inspected the shotgun he'd taken from the O'Driscoll raiders on the road almost two days before. The Tumbleweed deputy did actually have a point, it seemed. The pump-action shotgun was rusty and decrepit. Even pulling back the pump was a strain for Sawyer. A strain that could cost the outlaw his life in a gunfight.

"Suppose you're right." The fugitive agreed.

Sawyer then stood his shotgun up against the cellar wall, reached into the crate and picked up another, similar weapon. Was still a pump-action, the kind he liked, but this one was in far better condition. It was shining in the dim light, felt sturdy, reliable and most importantly, the pump pulled back like it wanted to _go_ back. Perfect, the young man thought.

"The Anderson's get nothin' but the best, kid. You'd do well to remember that." Vic said, grinning, "It's those posh, smart motherfuckers that are gonna help us stop that goddamn robbery and put your old buddy right in the ground where he belongs."

"Speakin' of which, you got a plan? Given what Peter told us and marked down on the map?" Sawyer then asked quickly.

Vic sighed whilst loading the bolt-action, "My only real idea was... That we sneak in. Slow and as easy goin' as we can be. Knock any soldiers out when it needs to happen. Otherwise I thought maybe we could make a distraction of some kind to lure 'em away."

Sawyer scoffed and shook his head again, "These fella's are _soldiers_, Vic. You think a crack over the head is gonna put them to sleep?"

Vic listened closely, not saying a single word to interrupt.

"And as far as makin' a distraction goes... These soldiers are guarding a shipment of _weapons_. That they probably plan to take back with them when one of there carriage's turns up." Sawyer said, "You think a stick of dynamite... Or a hapless motherfucker screaming for help is gonna lead _all eight_ of 'em away?"

Vic nodded in agreement, glaring at the floor, "A'ight, decent enough point. You got anything better?"

"Nah..." Sawyer admitted, "But I guess we can just make it up as we go."

"I ain't killin' anybody, Sawyer." Vic said again, very sternly.

The outlaw sighed, "We won't have to, a'ight? Trust me."

Sawyer continued rummaging through the crate and found what felt like a velvet coat of some kind. Shining the lantern close revealed it to be a dark blue colour. As Vic kept inspecting the rifle he'd taken, Sawyer unfolded the coat and patted the dust off of it. He thought about wearing it, until he realised it was a little too big for him. Looking at the coat and then to Vic, the outlaw thought it probably suited _him_ more.

"Here, catch." Sawyer said whilst throwing the coat over.

Vic had to catch it at the last second, grunting in a slight shock when it landed in his hands. After a quick inspection of the piece of clothing, he glanced back up at Sawyer.

"'Bout time you wore somethin' different, Deputy." The outlaw grinned.

Vic listened carefully and soon tried on the dark blue coat which hung down to his knees. The colour was suitable, Vic thought, given his affiliation with the law. Sawyer thought the same thing too as he looked at Vic wearing it.

"Look's good on ya." Sawyer said, nodding.

"Yup... Guess it does." Vic replied.

Just as the deputy looked back up from the coat's sleeves, he saw Sawyer pick up a dusty old flat cap out of the crate and put it onto his head. This made Vic snigger to himself.

"What?" The outlaw asked.

"Nothin'... You just look like you're about to clean out some chimneys or somethin'." Vic replied with a smirk.

Sawyer grinned but gave no response, and after another few more minutes spent cleaning and loading their weapons, the two men stood quiet for a few minutes. They listened to the general banging and knocking from the hotel above, and also the gentle snoring of Ellie in the corner. They didn't know what to do with themselves now.

"So." Sawyer began, "When d'ya wanna _do_ this job?"

Vic looked at Sawyer, loaded one last round into the rifle's receiver and then hung it over his shoulder. He then took another quick glance at the peacefully sleeping girl and then back to his outlaw friend again.

"I'm ready now, kid. How 'bout tonight?" The deputy said quietly.

Sawyer smirked with a certain excitement, "Oh yeah, I can do tonight."

With that, both the outlaw and the lawman blew out the lanterns and made their way up the cellar's steps.


	15. Chapter XIV

**CHAPTER XIV**

**_BIG VALLEY, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 9TH 1900_**

Neither Vic nor Sawyer could be sure, but both were confident they were getting close to the Fort. The map that Vic consulted had shown that Fort Riggs wasn't far at all from Strawberry. But ever since the two had saddled up in town and galloped off on their way, the heavens had opened and a torrential downpour of rain had began to fall, leaving any further use of the map impossible.

Sawyer almost wished that _he'd_ taken the long blue coat now instead of giving it to Vic. Everything, from his duster cap to his boots, was drenched right through. Even Neigan seemed to be slipping around now and again thanks to the ground having become considerably softer. Still, the outlaw didn't mind it that much though, as he really just wanted the job to be over and done with so they could get back on Roland's trail.

The two renegades didn't even get the chance to consult each other about a plan of action since the rain was thudding and splashing off of everything around them, making it hard to hear much of anything else. They were so focused on making sure their horses didn't tumble that they'd completely neglected that debate so far. Vic had outright refused to hurt any soldiers, whilst Sawyer didn't see any way the job could be done without it. They were both sour about that disagreement, which most likely played another part in the discussion being avoided for as long as it had been.

"We're gettin' close, right?!" The lawman asked, shouting out.

Sawyer looked over, "How the fuck d'ya expect _me_ to know?!_"_

"You're the guy who's _wanted_ in this fuckin' state!... Which means you know more about the land!... Than I do!" Replied Vic, spitting out drops of rain.

"Maybe so! But I can't give you an answer!" Sawyer replied, wiping his face, "I say we just keep headin' down this road! We'll hit it soon enough!"

Vic scoffed so loud even the outlaw heard him clearly, "You call _this_ a road?! I feel like me and the mare are gonna sink into the fuckin' ground!"

Sawyer just laughed. The deputy had a point, the weather was atrocious and might only serve to hinder the job at hand. Nevertheless though, the image of Vic and April being swallowed by the mud tickled him a little. They clearly weren't used to the heavy rainfall and were struggling to keep upright. Sawyer and Neigan however, had done this kinda thing a lot together, so naturally the young outlaw took point ahead.

Vic had tried real hard to light a cigarette ever since they'd set off, with every attempt failing. It may have been one of the only times he ever wished that he wore a hat like most others. Eventually the maverick lawman gave up and put the smoke and matches away. His thick black hair was drenched like his clothes and now stuck to his cheeks and temple, an itchy feeling that served to only irritate him more. If there was one thing he could say for certain, it was that he didn't mind the complete absence of rain back in New Austin.

Mercifully, though the rain _was_ heavy and the land pulpy, the two men could still see where they were going. The water soaking everything around them made the vast valley of West Elizabeth glisten ever so slightly. It helped make sure that neither the deputy or the fugitive happened to gallop into a tree, an accident which had been known to kill some folk if stories were to be believed.

Sawyer eventually glanced over to Vic, "You sure it was the best thing?! Leavin' Ellie alone like that?!"

Vic spat water from his mouth again, "The Anderson's ain't fuckin' perverts!"

"_Jesus!_ That ain't what I meant!" Sawyer yelled, shaking his head, "I just mean... We're gonna get a hard fuckin' time in the mornin'! You know that, right?!"

"She'll be a'ight!" Vic shouted in confidence, "Once we're done with this shit and get back, by sunrise she won't even know that we were gone!"

Sawyer glared to himself, "Yeah well, I'll let _you_ deal with that one!"

"You know as well as I do, kid, that it's better we do this alone!" Vic shouted, "This is a risky fuckin' job as is! Best we don't drag _her_ into it too! You get my meanin'?"

Sawyer nodded in agreement, "Yup! I get ya!"

The two men continued on, their horses not letting up at all because of the weather. Both were galloping faster than either rider expected, which made them wonder how Fort Riggs hadn't came into view just yet. Soon enough though, they finally saw it.

"I think I see it!" Sawyer called out to Vic.

Both the outlaw and the deputy brought their horses to a sudden stop on the road, causing them skid their hooves across the sludge-like mud below. The two men looked carefully across the rain-swept valley, observing the structure. They saw a large circular fence, broken down and decrepit just like Peter had told them, enclosing a broken down tepee and an equally dilapidated cabin. Outside this cabin, in the middle of the complex, there was a large campfire burning. Even in the rain it was still burning good and bright, giving light to what otherwise would be a pitch black area.

"You sure that's the fort?" Vic asked, wiping the rain from his face again.

Sawyer kept squinting as he looked, "Confident enough."

After another moment observing, Sawyer noticed that just down the road on the left side, there was a tall cliff face that overlooked the fort. Instead of heading on up there though, the outlaw thought it easier to just hunker down at the base of it, within the trees and bushes, to get a better vantage point.

The outlaw nudged Vic and pointed, "Over there, come on."

Sawyer then got his horse to trot on further down the path and Vic's mare soon followed without any instruction, almost like she already knew what Vic was going to say. Neither horse had seemed bothered at all by the rain, as their efforts didn't seem in any way weaker than usual.

"This'll do, boy." Sawyer said to Neigan as he patted his neck.

Both the fugitive and the lawman stopped their horses and climbed outer the saddles. Each found a strong enough tree nearby to hitch them to aswell. Sawyer made sure to take the two sacks to store the guns in from his horse before leaving his side. The spot that the outlaw had chosen to take cover was low and dark enough to not be seen by anyone passing by. It was even a little dryer too, thanks to the branches overhead fighting back the rainfall. The only problem was that someone might notice the hitched horses and think they were up for grabs. The outlaw had to just hope that wouldn't happen.

The two men stayed low and moved through the wet shrubs and bushes until they could see the fort again across the path and the field. Now that they'd gotten closer, Vic started to notice the group of people sitting around the campfire. He could only make out silhouettes, but there was people there for sure.

"You seein' those guys too, kid?" Vic pointed.

Sawyer was giving the Fort an inspection through his binoculars. The rain didn't seem to hinder _their_ quality either.

"Yup... That'd be our soldiers." Sawyer replied, "Looks like they're warming up next to the fire. Can't see any guns in their hands... Though that don't mean the guns ain't there."

Vic took the opportunity of the dryer spot to finally light the smoke he'd been craving. The ember burned smoothly once it got going and the drag of tobacco soon made him feel ready for the job ahead.

Sawyer kept scanning the area through the lenses and finally came to see the one guard overlooking the Fort with a Sniper Rifle. That guard was on the edge of another small hilltop, this one right on the other side of the Fort wall. He was able to keep an eye on_ everything_ going on within the complex. Sawyer knew that if they wanted any chance of success, that guard had to go.

"That's the overlooking guard post that Peter mentioned." Sawyer then pointed, "Soldier up there's gonna be a problem."

"Damn straight..." Vic took another drag and slowly exhaled, "We won't be able to make one move without that fella plantin' a bullet in our heads. And trust me... He'll be accurate even in the dark."

Sawyer turned to Vic, "Then he's gotta go first."

Vic then looked sternly at the fugitive, "We ain't killin' anyone, kid. Thought we was clear on that?"

The outlaw sighed, "Listen to me. You wanna get to Roland Payne? Then you gotta be willin' to get your hands dirty here, Deputy."

Vic grimaced at Sawyer, clearly not a fan of the fugitive's words.

"Desperate times call for desperate fuckin' measures." Sawyer whispered sharply, "Now if you got any idea on a better way of doin' this, please let me know. But you'd best think fast, 'cause we ain't got much fuckin' time."

Vic kept staring at Sawyer, "There's gotta be another way, kid."

The outlaw then scoffed, "A'ight then knock the fucker out then! But just make sure that when he wakes up, it's gonna be at the crack of dawn."

Everything fell silent for a minute. The rain kept falling, the soldiers kept sitting and Vic kept thinking. The lawman didn't like what he was being made to do. A part of him even started to wish they'd just went after Roland without the aid of the Anderson Brothers. But that was a futile thought. Now that he was at the Fort, he had no real choice but to continue on. Enough time had been wasted up to that point and he wasn't about to waste anymore.

"So what d'ya need me to do then, kid?" Vic asked.

Sawyer, after putting the red bandana around his face and the empty sacks over his shoulders, pointed back to the overlooking guard, "You go on up there and make him see stars. Take his rifle and cover me in Fort if I get into trouble."

"You're goin' in _alone_?" Vic asked again, "You sure you wanna do that?"

The outlaw loaded a few shells into his shotgun before pumping it, "Not exactly, no."

Without another word, Sawyer left Vic's side and disappeared into the branches and bushes. The maverick lawman then finished his smoke, threw the butt away and then headed off through the undergrowth himself towards the guard post.

The rain was still falling, though it had noticeably eased off a little as Vic made his way across the open grass and field. He was crouched as he moved and even though the rain still drowned out many sounds, he tried hard to make as little noise as possible. The only sounds he couldn't suppress were his sloppy footsteps across the softened mud. With every stride his boots seemed to sink further in until he came upon the main road and the ground became harder. The deputy then took the chance to sprint the rest of the way across.

After crossing the open road, Vic quickly scanned his surroundings, seeing nobody and nothing in the area other than the soldiers and the Fort. Things were going smoothly so far, even if they hadn't really started yet. Not waiting around, the deputy continued making his way up the soaking wet slope of the hill.

At the top, he found the small wooden structure that the sniping guard was sitting under. It wasn't as much of a cabin as it was a wide plank of wood supported by four beams. Underneath sat the overlooking guard, his scoped Springfield rifle laying across his lap. He was smoking what looked and smelled like a cigar while casually swinging his stool back slightly with his foot.

Vic took the guard's moment of rest as an opportunity. Quickly and carefully, the deputy launched towards the guard and wrapped his inner-elbow around the man's throat.

"Sorry, fella. Nothin' personal." Vic whispered genuinely while the guard began to struggle.

Vic pulled the guard back so far that he himself ended up on his own back. The lawman continued to throttle the guard by applying pressure with his other arm too, dealing with the man's attempts to grab or hit him. Fortunately, the soldier didn't manage to land a single blow on Vic before letting out one final strained breath as he succumbed to the choke-hold. He wasn't dead, but wouldn't be waking up for some time.

The maverick deputy then laid the guard gently in the corner of the wooden structure, took his Springfield and then searched him. Rummaging through the uniform's pockets he found more ammo for the sniper, some cigarettes and another, unsmoked cigar. He left everything but the bullets. Searching the actual post itself revealed nothing but a small basket for the guard's bottles of bourbon. As tempting as they were, Vic didn't need it at that moment.

After closely examining the wet Springfield, Vic chose instead to keep using his Bolt-Action rifle, having had more experience with them in the past. Realising the Springfield's scope would be a useful addition in covering Sawyer however, Vic removed it from the rifle and quite easily attached it to his Bolt-Action. He then loaded a round into the barrel, crouched down on one knee and looked down at the drenched Fort through the scope, looking for any sign of his younger ally.

"Come on, kid." Vic whispered aloud, "Show me somethin'."

_Meanwhile..._

Far across the other side of the Fort, Sawyer had managed to make his way around the perimeter to the west-side of the fence. The rain had mercifully slowed down to a light drizzle, making things both easier and a little harder for the outlaw. Less rain meant more of a chance being spotted, but less rain also meant a better chance of spotting any approaching soldiers, so he knew he had to be as vigilant as possible.

Sawyer clutched at his Shotgun, but only with the intention of hitting guards with it, not shooting them. One shell of the shotgun going off would certainly be heard and end the job prematurely and he and Vic would end up with nothing, and that wasn't an option considering how far they'd both come. Whilst he couldn't see or contact the deputy in any way, the outlaw was more than confident that Vic would be managing well, may even be watching him through the rifle's scope by now.

With fast and sharp observations, Sawyer could still see the soldiers sitting around the campfire outside the cabin. They were laughing and yelling at each other, he noticed. They might've even been drunk, and if so, that would also make things a little less challenging. But the best part about seeing the soldiers was that the outlaw could now see exactly how many were there, and it was three. Three soldiers, drunk, sitting around the fire with seemingly no others within the Fort. He knew the rest were obviously guarding the outside, probably on a consistent loop around the fence too.

As soon as Sawyer realised that, he heard the footsteps approaching to his left. The outlaw had to act fast but quickly realised there was nowhere to hide, so the guard was going to see him any second unless he made a move.

Throwing caution to the wind, Sawyer chose to attack rather than defend. He dropped the shotgun and suddenly lunged towards the footsteps as fast as he could move. Within seconds he could see the soldier, who could also see him. As the guard raised his Repeater to fire on the outlaw, Sawyer had already grasped it by the barrel, pulled at it so hard that it came from the soldier's wet hands, then drove it back in the same direction he'd taken it, slamming the stock of the gun right into the man's face.

Sawyer watched as the soldier held his now bloody nose and mouth, stunned and holding onto the fence to keep upright. To make sure he went down and stayed there, the outlaw then gave the guard a hard punch to the gut, causing him to lean forward gasping for air. While the man was bent down, even more unsteady, Sawyer then whacked the Repeater's stock over his head again, this time knocking him out cold.

After a quiet moment of ease, Sawyer knew he had to hide the man. He soon picked up the beaten guard onto his shoulders and hastily carried him a few yards away from the Fort's perimeter, dumping him and the Repeater in a bush before making his way back and picking up his shotgun.

Now with only three soldiers _within_ the broken Fort walls to worry about, Sawyer slipped his way through a large gap between the wooden beams. Inside Fort Riggs, the outlaw found the ground littered with broken planks of wood, rocks, and old collapsed tents. The place was a wreck, showing obvious reasons as to why it wasn't really in use any longer.

Looking for the next place to take cover, Sawyer noticed the semi-ruined tepee. Stepping over the garbage and trash, Sawyer rushed silently over to the broken down Indian tent and crouched down outer sight. Beyond it was the burning campfire and the three drunken soldiers, still laughing it up and talking louder than was necessary. The only problem, was that Sawyer couldn't see any of them.

"Fuck..." The fugitive angrily whispered to himself, trying to think of something.

Among the sounds of the dying rain and a crackling fire, the outlaw could now hear the soldiers' conversation rather easily. They seemed to be talking about the usual stuff when drunk. Girls, money, who had the best aim. Sawyer didn't mind listening to it all, for as long as they were bullshitting to each other, it meant they couldn't hear _him_ and weren't suspicious of anything.

While thinking of a way to see the guards and their positions without alerting anyone, Sawyer felt the tepee's leather-like canvas and thought it seemed weak. After all, it _was_ an unused tepee and had been stood there, slowly crumbling for god knows how long. The young outlaw felt it'd probably be easy to cut through, so he equipped his knife, stabbed it into the tepee and then pulled the blade down slowly in a straight line until the hole was as tall as he was.

Sawyer then pulled either side of the torn hole apart and carefully slipped through into the tepee. While crouching low and staying quiet, the outlaw could already see the three soldiers. They were passing around a small bottle of bourbon with each taking a gulp. One of them was spitting into the fire and causing it to sizzle. Sawyer couldn't believe how some Army men could be so child-like. But then again, that's what bourbon could do to some folk. As stupid as these soldiers were acting, the young fugitive wouldn't dare cross them, especially if they were sober.

"I _could_ shoot better'an _most veterans_, boy!" One soldier yelled, slurring each word before burping.

Sawyer just waited, watching closely. He needed any form of opening to move. Peter had told him and Vic that the weapon stash was inside the cabin. And having made his way into the Fort and now hiding in a tepee, Sawyer knew that the shipment couldn't _be_ anywhere else. So he had to just sit and watch, waiting for anything to give him the go ahead. Maybe the soldiers would go for a walk, maybe they would even pass out, but so far, no opportunity was showing itself.

_Meanwhile..._

Vic kept his sights on the tepee. It'd been minutes since Sawyer made his way into the Indian tent through the back and now he wasn't moving an inch. The lawman kept taking random glances towards the sleeping guard next to him, and _he_ hadn't moved an inch either thankfully. The deputy also knew there was supposed to be another guard on the hill but they hadn't shown their face just yet, which was another reason Vic was quietly begging his outlaw friend to do something soon.

The rain had stopped a few minutes earlier, just as the kid had gotten through the fence. Now the deputy could really focus, despite still being drenched. What he could mainly see better was the three soldiers sitting around the fire. Two of them had started trying to choke one another, having some sort of play fight. It was those three guys stopping Sawyer from making a move towards the cabin, where the weapons were surely being stored.

"What the fuck are you _doin?_..." Vic whispered aloud again, painfully wanting the outlaw to make some kinda move.

More minutes went by and Vic kept waiting and watching. His patience was failing him. The more they waited, the bigger the chance of being caught and probably shot on sight. There was still one guard on the hill that hadn't appeared and could be anywhere, and along with the three soldiers outside the cabin there was another two guards around the fence. It was too much, too dangerous to keep on lingering.

Vic thought for a moment with a sense of desperation. Maybe the kid needed help, maybe Sawyer needed _him_ to do something. After all, it was only the three soldier's getting in the outlaw's way. If they were gone, then he could get in the cabin, get the guns and they could both get on their way back to Strawberry. All the deputy had to do was think of some way of helping. And after another few seconds, he had an idea.

Vic sighed, "Okay... Fuck it."

The lawman aimed his Scoped Bolt-Action in the air, far above the Fort, and fired a single round. The shot echoed loudly across the area, seeming for a moment to make everything else fall silent. Every soldier would've heard it, and that was the point.

The deputy watched his surroundings, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he reloaded and aimed again, this time around the campfire where the stunned soldiers were sat frozen. Vic then pulled the trigger again, the bullet this time hitting a spot on the ground next to one of the three men, send a ray of dirt into the air. _That _shot was what it took to get people moving.

_Meanwhile..._

Sawyer jumped outer his skin _again_ when he heard the second gunshot. After the first had been fired, he was left fearing Vic had been killed. But when he heard and saw the next bullet hit the ground outside the cabin, he knew exactly what the deputy was doing. He was distracting the soldiers.

The three drunkards had simply froze in position when the first shot went off, but started scrambling around for safety after the second. They didn't know whether to hide or attack, and in the midst of their panic, Sawyer silently slipped back out of the tepee via the hole he'd sliced through the leather canvas.

"_What in the fuck?!" _One soldier yelled, "_Wha's goin' on up there?!"_

Another soldier pulled out his Cattleman revolver and aimed up at the guard post, "_I'll teach'at cocksucker!"_

The young outlaw watched closely as he manoeuvred his way around the wooden trash, logs and broken crates. The three soldiers were all facing away from him, making the job so much easier. Vic's plan was working well. Before long, another bullet hit the ground next to the guards, strangely causing them to start laughing instead of panicking.

_"Can't even shoot!" _One laughed to another, _"C'mon! We're right here!"_

As the soldier's began to wave their arms out in the open, taunting whoever they thought was firing down at them, Sawyer slipped outer sight. He managed to get behind the cabin before seeing another guard beyond the ruined fence. Another soldier from the perimeter route. The young fugitive dove to the floor immediately, landing behind a large stack of wooden planks in order to conceal himself.

While laying there, he equipped his Schofield instead of the shotgun, just in case. After coming so far, Sawyer was happy to ignore Vic's morals and just kill his way to the weapons if he had to. But as another few moments went by, listening to the soldiers yell upwards against the hill, firing their own revolvers in the sniper posts direction, Sawyer decided to take a look over the wooden stack and fortunately could no longer see the perimeter guard. Clearly he hadn't spotted Sawyer. He'd probably gone to investigate the sniper outpost along with the others. In which case, Vic would need to get moving, the outlaw thought.

Now that nobody could see him, Sawyer finally made his move and jumped up towards one of the cabin's small rear windows. He clung on tightly and then pulled himself inside.

The cabin's interior was as grimy and broken down as the rest of Fort Riggs. The only source of light in the room was a small lit lantern in the corner which only seemed to highlight the rotten wood and dampness. Above all else though, the light revealed what Sawyer had came for. The shipment of arms.

There were two long crates. Not too big, not too small, just as Peter had informed them. The outlaw soon equipped his knife and pried open both crate lids to make sure he was taking the right wares. When the lids were open, Sawyer saw everything that he was taking back to the Anderson Brothers. Knives, machetes, bandoliers and even packs of dynamite. Primarily though there were repeaters, shotguns, many revolvers, pistols and plenty ammunition. Everything was pristine, shiny and brand new, straight outer the factory. The outlaw's age-old instincts almost came to the surface as he thought about just taking it all for himself, but he soon fought away those feelings. He and Vic were there to do a job, and Sawyer was gonna see it through. He _wasn't_ a bandit anymore.

Time was now of the essence even more so than ever. Sawyer quickly got to work transferring the guns into the two sacks he'd brought with him. It all looked as though it was gonna fit in the bags without much trouble, even if he had to sling one or two rifles over his back. But just as the outlaw neared finishing and had both bags almost crammed full, he suddenly realised that all the shouting and wailing outside from the soldiers had stopped. Everything was silent, aside from the burning campfire and drips of rain coming through the cabin roof.

It was eerie, hearing nothing all of a sudden. There were no more gunshots from Vic and no more yelling from the drunken soldiers. Maybe they'd gone, Sawyer thought. Gone to see who was shooting at them, which meant Vic might've been in danger.

After sharply slinging both heavy sacks of guns over each shoulder, Sawyer moved, albeit whilst struggling, to the cabin door. Slowly and cautiously, the outlaw opened the thin door and aimed his shotgun out in case of any threat. Thankfully, he saw nobody. But more worryingly, he now saw two fires burning. One campfire a few yards away, but also a much larger fire, high up on the hill. It took a few seconds for Sawyer to figure out that the sniper post was somehow ablaze.

_Meanwhile..._

It had been Vic's last ditch effort to get all of the soldiers, both in and out, to leave Fort Riggs and get their asses to the hill. He had dragged away the unconscious guard to get him at a safe distance, before dousing the sniper post with one of the man's bottles of whiskey and then throwing three lit matches into the golden puddle. Within seconds, the structure had began to scorch, much quicker than Vic had anticipated.

Now backing away slowly, into the darkness of the bushes and the field, Vic kept his eye through the sniper scope to make sure the soldiers were coming. And they were. All remaining six were coming from either side of the complex. The three weird ones from within the Fort had joined one perimeter guard and were marching up the left hillside. The last two were coming from the right.

"Come on... Come on, boys..." Vic whispered, "That's it... Good."

The Tumbleweed lawman was astonished at how easily these soldiers had fell for the bait. They hadn't even left a soldier behind within Fort Riggs to guard the weapons. Nonetheless, the deputy was thankful for their stupidity, as it meant Sawyer was probably bagging the guns that very minute, or had already done so. All Vic had to do now was rendezvous with him.

After taking his time, pacing himself as he stepped back, the deputy finally hung his Bolt-Action on his shoulder and made a run for it, towards the horses. The area was still dark, but with the rain gone it was pretty easy to spot where April was. Her white, pearlescent fur still shined rather brightly across the dim blackness. Vic kept his eyes fixed on her as he ran, with the odd glance backwards towards the burning structure. The soldiers had begun surrounding it, looking closely to find their comrade, who Vic had lay asleep a few yards away. He was confident that they'd find him before too long. The most important thing was that they hadn't seen the deputy himself. Vic was in the clear.

After running fast across soggy ground for a few more minutes, Vic crossed the road again, through the bushes and soon found himself at the trees that April and Neigan were hitched to. Vic untied Neigan's reins but climbed into April's saddle with the intention of riding _her_ but leading Neigan at the same time. Once they found the kid, they would all be home free.

"A'ight you two, get movin'. Lets go see Sawyer, huh?" Vic said aloud, petting Neigan's back while giving April a nudge with his leg.

Just as the stallion and the mare were about to start moving, Vic felt April's reins get snatched from his hands and heard a gun cock. The lawman immediately grabbed one of his LeMat's but then felt his gun arm get grasped tightly too. Vic turned and saw an immaculate Mauser Pistol pointed at him. It was in the hand of a familiar face.

"Now that sounds like a darn good idea, Victor. Why don't you just lead the way, huh?" Said Agent Wilson, with a sinister smirk.


	16. Chapter XV

**CHAPTER XV**

**_BIG VALLEY, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 9TH 1900_**

Straining and struggling with almost every step, Sawyer had managed to make his way from the cabin and back through the same gap in Fort Riggs' shoddy walls. Still carrying a bag of guns on each shoulder, the outlaw was getting more and more out of breath as he moved. The sacks were heavy and weighed him down constantly, yet he continued to power through.

The fields were still dark, so Sawyer was forced to use the light from both the campfire in the compound and the burning sniper post in order to figure out which was the way back to the horses. He'd also heard no more shots from Vic, so either he'd been taken out or he'd managed to get away. Judging by the amount of silhouettes around the burning outpost, the outlaw was confident in the latter.

The way back seemed clear, given there wasn't another soul in the area other than the pre-occupied soldiers. The outlaw was constantly thankful for that too, as it allowed him lower the sacks of guns to the ground every now and then to take a much-needed breather. All he could think about was getting the bags off of his shoulders, onto the saddles and getting back to town. It had dawned on Sawyer how strange it was that he couldn't stop thinking about returning to the town that wanted his neck snapped. He'd certainly be going back with a newfound respect for what the Anderson Brothers managed to do on a daily basis without much help.

There was a pretty rancid stench coming from the burning watch post on the hill. Looking up at it again, Sawyer could still see the soldiers checking the small area thoroughly, probably trying to find the guard that was supposed to be up there. Still, they could search the hill for as long as they wanted, as long as it kept them all at a distance.

Soon enough, the young outlaw found himself off the soggy grass and onto the main path again. Things were pretty quiet in the valley, which he was starting to wonder whether or not was a good sign. He could hear the general shouting and grunting of the soldiers, but not much else. Maybe it was the exhaustion of carrying the heavy sacks, but Sawyer definitely began to feel like something wasn't quite right.

"Where the fuck are you at, Vic?" Sawyer asked aloud to himself, groaning slightly as he moved.

The deputy was late in showing himself. The outlaw figured that if he'd gotten away from the burning watch post, not seen by any of the soldiers, then he should've been there to meet him already. Thankfully it didn't take much longer to finally see April coming down the road up ahead. She was a pleasure to see, as usual, but the slow speed in which Vic was riding her was real strange. The soldier's may have been distracted, but time was _still_ of the essence.

Sawyer tried to pick up a little more speed after seeing the deputy finally make an appearance. The relief he wanted to feel when throwing the gun sacks onto each horse was overpowering him. Despite both sweating and breathing heavily, the young fugitive managed to find the strength to jog the rest of the way.

"'Bout fuckin' time, Deputy." Sawyer said with little breath, "Gotta say though... Nice job on clearin' the green boys."

Vic didn't say a word back. The outlaw noticed this right away as he slung one of the sacks of guns onto April's saddle. And just as Sawyer wandered over to his own horse, he looked up at the deputy again in confusion.

"Somethin' wrong, Vic?" The young fugitive asked, puzzled.

The lawman was looking down at Sawyer with a strange expression. It was a weird mixture of pity and guilt. Even in the dim light of the Big Valley fields it could be read rather clearly.

Sawyer walked a little closer to the lawman, ", A'ight, you wanna tell me what the fuck's goin' on?"

That was when Sawyer heard the pistol cock and felt the chilly end of the barrel press against the back of his neck.

"Drop that fuckin' bag, now." Said the familiar voice.

Sawyer tried to turn to his rear to see who was holding the gun, but to no avail. Wasn't like it mattered. Though he couldn't see who it was, he already knew regardless. All the outlaw could do was stare up at Vic, wondering what either could do.

"Agent Wilson." Sawyer said with a sigh, "What exactly are _you_ doin' here, huh?"

The Pinkerton agent moved slowly around the outlaw, coming face to face with him, Mauser still pointed at his head.

"Well, you owe my little visit to yourself, asshole." The agent said, his higher pitched voiced piercing both Vic and Sawyer's ears, "Comin' back to West Elizabeth was pretty darn stupid, givin' what you've done here already."

"Nah, I don't mean like that, I mean what are _you_ doin' out here _so late_, Agent?" Sawyer replied with a grin, "Shouldn't you be up to your balls in a pig right about now?"

For the remark, Agent Wilson stepped forward and clipped the outlaw across his already bruised face with his elbow. The hit sent Sawyer back onto one knee, dropping the second sack of guns onto the ground.

Seeing this, Vic quickly jumped from April's saddle onto the ground, but the Pinkerton immediately spun around and aimed the Mauser at his fellow law man.

"Don't even fuckin' think about it, Noble." The tall, thin man snarled, "Get your fuckin' hands in the air."

Vic stood still, staring at the Pinkerton agent. Both men locked their eyes on one another for a long time before the agent slowly approached the Tumbleweed deputy.

"Do as I fuckin' say!" Wilson yelled in Vic's face, gun still pointed.

Vic kept staring, not blinking or flinching for a moment, before slowly raising his open hands up. The Pinkerton soon smiled at the conforming deputy.

"Keep 'em there." Wilson ordered, "If I see 'em go any lower... I'll shoot that little fuckin' squirt right between the eyes."

Vic heard Wilson clearly and did exactly what he was told and stood frozen. Sawyer was still on one knee, shaking his head, trying to refocus his vision after being hit. Both men had to standby silently as the Pinkerton took both the sack of guns from April and the one that Sawyer had dropped to the ground. He dragged the two sacks right into the middle of the road.

Agent Wilson's grey suit, red waistcoat and top hat were all still in pristine condition, despite the recent torrential rainfall and the effect it had had on the surrounding area. Whilst Vic and Sawyer were drenched, with muddy boots and dirtied clothes, the Pinkerton agent still looked as though he was above everyone else.

"Bet you're real fuckin' proud of yourself..." Sawyer said, still breathing heavily, "I imagine you think you're some real hero right about now, huh?"

"Shut your fuckin' mouth, you little pissant. Or the next hit's gonna be a lot harder." The Pinkerton responded without even looking.

Just as Agent Wilson finished dragging the two sacks of guns into the road, he pointed the gun at Vic again.

"Now, go pick your pathetic little accomplice up, Noble." The Pinkerton ordered.

Vic again stared sternly at his fellow law man before carefully doing what he had said. The deputy walked over to Sawyer slowly, his hands still in the air and then took him by the hand.

"Come on, kid. Get up."

Sawyer was soon back on his feet and focused again. He and Vic both turned back to the Pinkerton who stood with the Mauser still aimed out. Both horses stood calmly away at the side of the road, leaving any chance of using even them for a distraction rather slim. The two men really had no choice but to follow what the Agent said.

"Pick up those bags, now. Both of ya." Wilson ordered, pointing the gun down at the stolen arms.

Slowly but surely, Sawyer and Vic picked up a bag each and slung them over their shoulders. Sawyer was sickened by it, after only _just_ relieving himself of the heavy burden. Had he not been made to carry both sacks all the way from Fort Riggs to the horses, he might've had enough strength to confidently confront the Pinkerton. But as it stood, he didn't feel he could do it yet.

The outlaw kept secretly hoping that Vic would try and get them both outer the situation. So far, he'd hardly uttered a single word or made any attempt to help. Sawyer had already figured out that it was the deputy's pride and moral code preventing him from doing anything to the Pinkerton, he just hoped that for once Vic could put it all aside. But he just wouldn't.

"Alright, move your asses." Wilson commanded, pointing down the road.

The outlaw and the deputy both did as they were told and started strolling down the path, away from Fort Riggs. The horses had to be left behind once again. Just as everything seemed to be going perfectly, the job had been shattered. Neither had much of an idea what Agent Wilson planned to do with them. Before long, a little ways down the road, Sawyer had grown tired of the situation and decided to start enquiring.

"So where you takin' us, Agent?" Sawyer asked, "Wouldn't be like you to escort us to an _actual_ jail. That ain't you government boys' usual way of doin' business, is it?"

Wilson kept following, Mauser in hand, "You're a wanted bandit, Sawyer. Killed a lot of poor innocents in Strawberry. Or has that slipped your infant mind?"

"Oh I remember the day very well, Agent." Sawyer said, "But what I also remember was a rather large, ugly, bald man who was also by my side when that all went down. It wasn't the deputy here."

Agent Wilson sniggered, "Not sure who else you're talkin' about, Sawyer. From what I hear, you were the _only_ bandit in town that day."

Sawyer laughed scornfully himself, "God damn, can't say I'm surprised that you're covering for Roland _again_. That's all you ever fuckin' did when me and that piece of shit rode together. What's wrong, agent? Still scared of him?"

Vic looked confusingly at Sawyer after hearing that. It sounded as though the young outlaw had once been in cahoots with the corrupt Pinkerton too, along _with_ Roland. The deputy wanted to intrude on the conversation, but managed to hold his tongue, thinking it a better idea to just keep walking and listening.

"I ain't scared of nobody, boy." Wilson scoffed, "And I don't remember every aidin' and abettin' you or any other lawbreakers. Unlike your outer-town friend here."

Vic grimaced. Never in his life as a lawman had he ever been complicit in any crimes with any scumbags. It hit him hard being accused by a Pinkerton. Especially one that could manipulate everyone into believing his lies. Still though, rather than defend himself, Vic stayed silent.

Sawyer turned, walking backwards, to face Wilson, "Well that ain't exactly true now, is it? Because I seem to remember Roland handin' you cuts of every stack of cash we robbed. Just to help keep our bounties at bay."

"A'ight, 'bout time you shut your mouth now, Sawyer." Wilson said, irritated, "Anymore outer you and you'll fuckin' limp the rest of the way."

"How you gonna make me limp then, agent? You gonna be balls deep in me instead of the usual swine of choice?" The outlaw said with a mocking giggle.

Agent Wilson glared at the young outlaw furiously before sharply approaching him closer, his hand still wrapped tightly around the pistol. Sawyer kept his sarcastic grin up as the Pinkerton proceeded towards him. Vic kept walking slowly, keeping his eyes fixed closely on what his younger friend was about to do.

"Fuckin' warned you, cocksucker." Wilson growled, reaching out to grab the outlaw.

Before the Pinkerton's hand could reach him, Sawyer suddenly spun himself around briskly, the bag of guns swinging with him. The deputy watched as Sawyer's bag of guns slammed into the agent's head, sending him flying onto the ground, finally staining his immaculate suit.

As Wilson hit the ground, Sawyer dropped the bag of weapons and lunged toward the agent who was already getting himself back up. Before he could do so, the young outlaw had got to him, kicked the Mauser pistol from his hand and punched him back to the ground.

"No!" Vic suddenly shouted, "Sawyer, no!"

The Tumbleweed deputy then dropped the sack from his own shoulders and ran over to the scuffling duo on the ground. Sawyer kept punching the Pinkerton, who in turn kept swinging right hooks into Sawyer's already sore ribs. The young outlaw groaned in pain but still managed to keep himself on top. Both men then started rolling the other over again and again, each trying to get the upper hand. With one further gut punch, the Pinkerton got Sawyer's back into the dirt. Once on top, Wilson began pummeling the outlaw in the face, who tried his best to avoid every blow.

Vic stood watching the two men fight, for once not knowing how to react. Whilst he needed to help his younger friend, he couldn't bring himself to hurt the Pinkerton. That was a line he still wasn't going to cross, no matter how corrupt Wilson may have been. So the deputy continued to have his own fight, within his head.

After taking some jabs to the face, Sawyer managed to duck under the agent's left arm and start lifting him up off the ground. The outlaw soon turned the tables on the Pinkerton agent by flipping the two of them over, slamming Wilson's spine into the ground real hard. The sudden impact on the dirt knocked the air right outer the agent's lungs, sending him into a strained, coughing fit.

"A'ight Sawyer, he's had enough!" Vic yelled out.

The outlaw wiped the blood running from his lip, "Not nearly enough."

As the Pinkerton agent squirmed on the ground, gasping for air and coughing away the dust, Sawyer crawled across the dirt road onto the wet grass and grabbed the Mauser Pistol. After getting back to his feet, the young fugitive walked over to Wilson once again.

The whole area was silent. No crickets or birds made a sound. Not even a burst of wind went through the region. And, miraculously, no passers-by had came across what was going down. Vic was grateful for that. The last thing he wanted was for anymore innocents to get dragged into the situation.

"Sawyer!" Vic shouted out again, "I said he's had enough!"

The outlaw didn't even listen, probably didn't even hear the deputy's words. Instead he crouched over the winded Pinkerton and pressed the Mauser's barrel hard into his cheek.

Vic got closer before Sawyer did anything else he might regret. No matter what, they could _not_ kill the Pinkerton. Wilson would've surely told his superiors and other agents who he was after, so if he suddenly disappeared, there would be even more Pinkerton's on their trail.

"Leave him be, Sawyer... It's Payne we're after, _not him!_" Vic shouted again, "Put down the gun!"

The outlaw still didn't listen, instead he kept snarling at Agent Wilson, who'd finally managed to catch his breath. The agent was looking up at Sawyer blankly, waiting to see if he was going to pull the trigger or not.

The agent then watched as Vic suddenly reached into his wet coat and pulled out one of his LeMat's. The deputy cocked the hammer and then aimed the gun at Sawyer's head.

"Put the gun down, Sawyer." Vic growled slowly, "Now."

Sawyer finally snapped back to reality. He looked up from Agent Wilson and around to Vic. He saw the shiny barrel of the LeMat and stared up at the maverick deputy.

"He's _not_ the man you want dead." Vic said quietly, "So put down the gun and step away from him."

Sawyer looked away from Vic and back into the arrogant eyes of the Pinkerton, "You've gone fuckin' crazy."

"Maybe." Vic replied, "But I'd rather this not get to the point that we have to find out."

"He's here to kill us, Vic." Sawyer said through gritted teeth, "There's no way he'd show _you_ the same mercy."

"What he _would_ or _would not_ do don't interest me, kid." Vic replied calmly, "I can't let you kill the man."

"Why not, huh?" Sawyer asked, staring at Wilson and almost drooling with temptation, "We kill him and we've got one less fuckin' problem."

"Nah." Said the lawman, "You kill him... And we'll have an even _bigger_ problem."

The young outlaw kept pressing the Mauser into Agent Wilson's cheek, straining with anger and the desire to shoot. But Vic's words managed to keep him from doing so.

"If that man dies... We'll have the whole fuckin' agency after us... After _you_." Vic revealed, "And the last thing we need is more Pinkerton's gettin' in our way."

Sawyer listened to his friend. God knows he wanted to kill Wilson, after everything the agent had let Roland, and himself, get away with. Sawyer saw the Pinkerton as another part of his past that needed erasing. He knew Vic was right, but the temptation was so overpowering.

"You ain't gonna shoot me, Vic." The outlaw snarled again.

Vic then moved the LeMat closer, now pressing it _against_ Sawyer's head, "If I _have to_ I will... And then Roland Payne's all mine. And I don't fuckin' want that, kid. Neither do you."

Sawyer started breathing heavily again. He kept staring at Wilson and looking back towards Vic. His eyes kept darting between them, so unsure of what to do. He didn't want to believe that Vic would kill him. Not after everything they'd been through up until that point. But given his usual way of going about his job as a deputy, Sawyer knew it was still a huge possibility.

"So... Put... The gun..." Vic whispered, "Down."

Breathing like an animal and unsure of what the outcome could be, Sawyer took one last look at Agent Wilson before finally relenting. He threw the Mauser Pistol far off into the darkness of the Big Valley field. He then promptly stood to his feet and backed away from the agent. Vic kept his LeMat aimed at Sawyer until he was far enough away, before aiming it back to the Pinkerton himself.

"Now you... Get up!" Vic shouted.

Confidently gleaming, Agent Wilson slowly got to his feet, dusted himself down and put his hands into the air. His arrogant grin was so poisonous, Vic wanted to rip it right off of his face. Yet he didn't. Instead he approached the Pinkerton slowly, keeping the LeMat aimed out in case he tried anything. His grey suit was mucky, his hat was gone and his greasy thin hair was roughed up, hanging past his ears. The outlaw had really done a number on him, Vic thought.

"You're gonna look the other way, let me and the kid go, _with_ the guns." Vic said, "And you're gonna walk down that fuckin' road, back to Roland Payne."

The agent listened close, his grin soon dropping as Vic approached him.

"And you're gonna tell him... That we're comin'." Vic whispered finally.

The Pinkerton and the Deputy then stood still, almost nose to nose, giving each other the same hateful glare. Both men, if their lives were just a little different, would have happily killed one another. Yet, despite the strong dislike and different levels of corruption between then, both seemed to share a similar code when it came to the law. It was just a question of who would break that code first.

Sawyer stood alone, many yards away, still calming himself down. He watched closely, hoping that Vic would change his mind and kill the agent. This was not to be.

"Okay..." Whispered the agent, "I'll do just that, Victor."

The Pinkerton then immediately began his walk away, down the road and into the darkness, before stopping suddenly and looking back. Both Vic and Sawyer kept staring him down.

"Just so you both know." Agent Wilson said, "The two of you are dead already. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon... We're gonna kill you."

Everything fell silent once again. The only sound that remained was the filthy Agent's footsteps as he disappeared into the darkness. And eventually, even those sounds faded away too. Vic and Sawyer were left standing still, not knowing how to proceed, their hearts finally falling back down from their throats. The Pinkerton's ominous words came over them like a wave.

The two men looked at each other, saying so much without speaking a single word. They knew right away that if their current mission wasn't already risky, it was now downright dangerous. Sawyer wanted to be angry at Vic for what he had done earlier, but he couldn't bring himself to be. He knew deep down that the deputy was right for doing what he did. And if nothing else, now was not the time to get into any arguments. The two men had the secured the guns and just had to get them back to Strawberry.

Within minutes, the two renegades had the sacks back over their shoulders and walked as quickly as they could back up the road to their horses. Both the mare and the stallion were still where they were last seen, to no surprise. Vic's bag went back onto April's saddle and Sawyer finally, at long last, greeted Neigan again.

"Hey there, pal." He said, stroking the horses snout, "You must be hungry, huh?"

Sawyer fed Neigan a carrot from his satchel before climbing into the saddle once more. Vic soon did the same, and as the horses began their trots back up the hill past Fort Riggs, both men watched as the fire of the sniper's post still burned bright. The soldiers however were no longer in sight, probably searching the area for their two missing comrades. Fortunately they were still not searching the road, giving Sawyer and Vic the go ahead to get outer the area fast.

The night was still calm and dark, but unlike when they'd arrived at the fort, the weather was dry, giving them a much easier journey back. Once the horses got into a gallop and Fort Riggs was no longer in sight when the two men looked back, they felt a huge sense of relief. The job, despite it's hardships, was finally done. Once the sun rose in the morning, they could get back on with their real mission.

Time seemed to go by fast now that things were safe. Neither Vic or Sawyer said a word for most of the journey however. Given what had gone down, both probably felt apologetic towards the other, yet neither would admit as much.

After many miles of galloping back the same way they'd came, both horses slowed themselves down a little to catch their breath's. Sawyer then looked over to his older friend and finally decided to break the long silence first.

"Were you really gonna do it, Vic?" He asked.

Vic didn't make any eye contact, "Do _what_, kid?"

"Were you really gonna shoot me?"

The deputy didn't reply for quite some time, leaving Sawyer to feel as though he'd been completely ignored. However, further up the road, just as the light of the sun began to show itself on the horizon, Vic spoke up.

"No. I wasn't." The deputy revealed.

Sawyer then looked over to his friend again, "So you're sayin' I could've just killed that motherfucker?"

"Nah... I would've just had to knock you out." Vic laughed slightly to himself, lighting a fresh cigarette.

The outlaw looked over with a smile, "You'd have _tried _to, asshole."

"Yup, maybe." Vic said, taking in a long drag, "Let's just be glad it didn't come to that then, huh?"

Sawyer nodded, "Right with you on that."

The two renegades then kept riding along easily, the sun rising ever so slowly on the horizon, gradually breaking through the woodlands that they galloped through. The vibe of the area kept getting better as the sun rose higher and higher. Never had the outlaw been so happy to see West Elizabeth's land in all its sun-scorched glory, though he did still keep his bandana slightly around his face.

As the road they travelled on began to get steeper, meaning they were almost back to town, Sawyer needed one more thing from his friend.

"Promise me one thing though, Vic?" Sawyer then asked.

The maverick lawman looked over, cigarette still between his lips, "Sure, go on."

"When we get to Roland... You ain't gonna pull any kinda stunt like that again." The outlaw said sternly, almost like an order.

Vic took another long drag, held the smoke in for awhile before exhaling slowly.

"You got it, kid."


	17. Chapter XVI

**CHAPTER XVI**

**_STRAWBERRY, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 9TH 1900_**

"Jolly good, lads." David said cheerfully, "This will very much keep business up for a while longer."

Down in the cellar, David, Vic and Sawyer had all began transferring the stolen shipment outer the sacks and into the wooden crates that the Anderson's used to hide their stock. Both brothers had been eagerly waiting up into the early hours for Vic and Sawyer to return. Once the duo was seen trotting up the hill and into town again, David, and to a lesser extent, Peter, had both gone to the basement to prepare the boxes.

The sun was now breaking through the small, slim window that looked out onto the yard outside the Welcome Center. Ellie was still sleeping on the camp bed, though she kept turning restlessly, probably due to the noise. Neither of the four men were even attempting to be quiet, aside from Peter, who was sitting with his feet up on the desk and staring blankly at the concrete ceiling.

"So, Victor... Was the job one of your more... Easy going errands?" Peter asked, now looking at the deputy with squinted eyes, "Or was it a more daunting task? Full of wracked nerves?"

Vic let that question sink in as he switched over a few more pristine Cattleman Revolvers. The lawman was real tired, he could even feel the heaviness of his eyelids whenever he stopped to take a breather. All he wanted to do, deep down, was smoke a cigarette and take a real long nap. Yet he kept pushing through, as work had to be done.

"It was a'ight... Hardly any trouble really." Vic replied, resting his back against the hard wall and glancing at Sawyer.

Neither the deputy or the outlaw had mentioned to anyone what had happened outside Fort Riggs with Agent Wilson. They didn't feel it was necessary given the Pinkerton agent didn't seem to know _why_ they had been stealing the guns. Vic wouldn't risk getting the Anderson's into trouble if he felt it was possible, but even _he_ was content to keep the encounter with Wilson a secret.

David kept inspecting almost every weapon, "I must say, I am immensely impressed that both you gentlemen managed the task."

"You mean you doubted us?" Sawyer then asked.

"No, I would not necessarily say that I _doubted_ you both, Mr. Sawyer." David said, stroking his moustache and looking towards the outlaw, "But given that the objective I gave you both wasn't particularly easy, I am very much surprised to see you both back this early with so much."

Sawyer chuckled a little to himself, "A'ight, fair point."

Peter then piped up again, "I imagine the atrocious weather added particular hardship? Even when I stepped out briefly to... _Not make the hotel stink_... I was positively drenched!"

As the oddball Anderson's voice echoed off of the cellar walls, the sleeping huntress finally grunted and moaned herself awake. Her face grimaced and twisted as she rubbed her eyes hard and sat up slowly.

All the men stopped and watched her for a moment, with Peter actually biting his fist with guilt, knowing he was responsible for waking her up prematurely when she could've kept sleeping soundly.

Vic glanced at his young friend and prepped himself for a scathing. She was going to be pretty pissed that neither he nor Sawyer took her out on the job, but hopefully she'd understand the reasoning, if she was even going to let either of them explain.

"Uh yeah, the rain was a fuckin' pain in the ass." Vic finally replied, "But it let up after a little while."

"Yeah, after he'd almost lost his fuckin' horse in the mud." Sawyer told the Anderson's with a laugh.

As all four men giggled like kids, Ellie sat and stared around the room with confusion for a moment. She didn't seem to remember where she'd been when the alcohol had sent her off to sleep. Once she'd given the cellar a good look, it didn't take long for her to realise. And that's when she turned to the lawman.

"What's goin' on?" Ellie asked her friend with genuine wonder.

"We're just helpin' our hosts organise their business." Vic said, "Sawyer and I went out to get the guns last night while you were sleepin'."

Sawyer didn't expect the deputy to reveal that to Ellie so bluntly. They both knew she wouldn't be happy, as she'd probably wanted to take part in the job and help out. And sure enough, when Sawyer looked in her direction to smile, she was doing the opposite.

"You both just fuckin' left me here?!" Ellie asked loudly.

Vic shushed her, "Jesus christ, this place is supposed to be secret, Ellie."

"I don't give a shit!" The huntress said, "You both left me alone here!"

Peter then winced with a gaping mouth, "Now hold on a minute there, Elizabeth! Are you insinuating that being left to snooze _here_, in _our_ Welcome Center's secret cellar, in the care of _us_ Englishmen, that you were in some form of _danger_?!"

Ellie's angry demeanour paused, almost as if she'd frozen in place, and she stared blankly at Peter for a moment before turning back to the three men in the corner.

"What'd he fuckin' say to me?" She asked, puzzled.

"He's sayin' that bein' left here weren't really all that bad." Sawyer said, "Nobody was gonna hurt you."

Ellie scoffed at the fugitive, "I fuckin' _know that_. You know I can handle myself... But that ain't my point."

"Oh, you mean there's a _point_ to all this?" Vic asked as he loaded the last of the shotgun's into the large wooden crate.

Ellie frowned, "Damn right there's a point. My point is that I could've helped you both, and you know it!"

Vic and Sawyer finished up with the guns and stood to their feet to listen to her. Even David, after closing the crate's lid, turned around to look at her himself.

"But as fuckin' usual... The two of you don't think I can be any use at all!" She shouted, "That I can't help with anything 'cause I'm _just a kid_!"

After a few moments of silence between everyone, Vic stepped forward slowly.

"From where me and Sawyer were sittin' last night, you didn't look like you were in any kinda state to help hitch horse, Ellie." Vic said, "'Cause that bourbon seemed to hit you harder than a rock. Remember that?"

Ellie then suddenly remembered that part of the night. The part when she'd suddenly collapsed into unconsciousness after finishing her first few glasses of whiskey. She'd been enjoying the flavour of the drink, but having never tried it before, it had knocked her sideways.

"Oh... Yeah." She said, looking to the ground, "I might'a... Forgotten about that."

Vic nodded glaringly with a smile, "Can't really say that I'm surprised."

"_And_ we couldn't wait any longer to do the job, Ellie." Sawyer then spoke up, "We were already runnin' outer time when it came to catching that son of a bitch, so we had to get it done fast."

Ellie stood with her arms folded stubbornly, twisting her mouth and looking at her own shoes. It was quickly apparent that she felt embarrassed. Not just about being beaten by the bourbon, but for throwing another childish tantrum unnecessarily. Ellie was just passionate about being a part of things, a trait that had followed her since the first days that she could walk. Her older deputy friend knew this too, which is why he was never really angry with her about it.

Vic just smirked, "So that's why we let you sleep, a'ight? Not because we think you're useless or that you're some kinda kid. But because you got real fuckin' drunk."

Eventually, Vic was stood in front of his younger friend, though she still stared at the ground miserably. The lawman had seen this posture on her many times before. The times when she'd done something wrong and felt guilty, like she was in trouble.

David was in the corner of the cellar, now leaning one foot on the crate and smoking his pipe. Sawyer stood close to Vic and looked closely at Ellie, hoping she'd feel better soon. After only knowing the huntress for one full day, the outlaw already hated seeing her look anything other than her usual self.

Peter watched too, looking half asleep at the desk, his scruffy boots still on the table. He was the one to finally break the silence.

"Nothing wrong with having a good old drink of the hard stuff, Elizabeth!" Peter said, "Good for you!"

Ellie looked at the weird, but nice, Anderson brother and then finally to Vic.

"You ain't mad at me, are ya?" She said, forming a smile.

Vic shook his head, "How could I be? It was _me_ that kept pourin' it for ya. I guess it had to happen eventually, huh?"

After a few seconds had dragged by again, Ellie slowly smirked back at Vic as he did to her. The deputy then put his arm around her and pulled her in playfully just as he'd always done. Even Sawyer and the Anderson's beamed with delight at the sight, especially the outlaw.

Sawyer couldn't remember ever being as close to someone as the two New Austin natives were to each other. He wasn't jealous of them, he knew, but more _envious_. It was a heartwarming sight and all he could do was wish he'd had the same thing at some point in his life.

"Just gotta work on your drinkin' game." Vic said, consoling her, "If you don't, you ain't never gonna reach my level."

"I'd have to be a fuckin' drunk bum to reach _your_ level, Vic." Ellie gave a snark reply with a grin.

Vic's face dropped as everyone in the room began to laugh. Even the young fugitive was chuckling a little and making no effort to try and hide it. It was another one of those moments, Vic thought, that he could see clearly that Ellie was growing up.

"My word this woman is fantastic, Victor!" Peter said with a huge smirk, "Such a shame you must take her away from us."

Ellie looked over to Peter, "I'm pretty darn sure I'll be back to visit sometime."

"Please do, Elizabeth! The world needs more gem's like yourself to keep this hard thing we call _life_ tolerable."

After the had laughter died down, David then stepped off of the crate and walked into the middle of the basement, as if he was about to make some kind of announcement. Ellie and Vic then sat back down on the camp bed, Peter stayed exactly where he was and Sawyer leaned back on the cellar wall next to the bed.

Vic pulled out his pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. Sawyer then nudged him on the shoulder and held his hand out. The deputy then placed another cigarette in the outlaw's hand and then even had to light it for him too after striking the match. Both men had been waiting to have a decent smoke since moving the guns, crates and other stuff around the basement all morning. They were both exhausted, especially having not slept for a whole day, but the smoke was well worth the wait and effort.

"Now." David started, puffing at his pipe, "This is the time for myself and my beloved brother to extend our gratitude to you, Victor. And _you_, Mr. Sawyer."

"Yes, true enough." Peter said, "I don't know how you both managed such a testing mission. I am certain our... _special customers_... Will be very pleased with the shiny, fresh stock we have now got stored here in the cellar."

David nodded, "Yes, quite. It will likely bring in a fine amount of money. Of course that is only _if_ my slothful sibling doesn't keep simply _giving_ our wares away without charge."

The younger Anderson then glared at Peter, who soon realised what his brother was referring to, as did Vic and Sawyer. The Bolt-Action rifle and the Shotgun that Peter had given them the night before was not to be just given away for free.

"Uh... Well we can give the guns back, David, if need be." Sawyer then said.

"Oh no, not at all, dear boy." The Englishman said, waving his hand, "The rifle and the shotgun are now yours and Victor's to keep. Consider them gifts for accepting the job. I am just simply making a necessary point to my business _partner_."

"We appreciate that, David." Vic said, blowing away the smoke.

"Certainly, I can assure you that the pleasure is all _ours_." David said with a smile before glancing again at Peter, "But of course, we know that you'll need quite a fair amount _more_ than two firearms to help stop Roland Payne rob an entire bank."

Vic kept listening as he smoked. Ellie sat next to him, fiddling with her bow and her knife, wafting away the second hand mist. Sawyer stood next to them, dragging his own cigarette but listening a lot less. He appreciated what the Anderson's were doing and giving to himself and Vic, which is why he'd done the Fort Riggs job, but it didn't really matter to him all that much. Whether he had any help or not, Sawyer wasn't going to let anything stop him from getting to Roland putting him down.

"So, due to this, myself and Peter have put together a small cache of supplies for you all to take with you down to Saint Denis." David said before turning to his brother again, "Peter?"

Everyone in the room turned to Peter, who was still sitting very still, his feet on the table, facing the ceiling with his eyes closed. David sighed and shook his head before walking over to his brother and sweeping his boots off of the table, waking him from his stupor.

The lazy Anderson brother shook his head and blew a raspberry through his lips to fully wake himself up.

"Yep..." Peter said before looking up at his brother, "Sorry?"

"Peter, do tell our friends what we're giving them for their journey and mission, please." David asked of his older brother, puffing the smoke from his pipe into his face.

Peter kept his eyes fixed on his brother for a moment before staring at the trio across the cellar for a moment, smiling gratuitously. Everyone waited for him to say or do something, but instead he kept sitting at the desk and patting his knees with his palms, eventually taking a glance around the entire basement.

"Do please hurry, Peter." David said with a sigh, "Our guests do not want their target to die of old age before they reach him."

Peter sniggered at his brother before turning to the trio again, "Ah yes. Roland Payne, eh? Quite the stomach turner, is he not?"

"Does more than turn the stomach." Sawyer muttered, blowing smoke upwards to the ceiling.

Peter pointed at the outlaw, "Yes... Yes, yes... You, Mr. Sawyer, probably have it out for that walking bag of puss more than most others."

Everyone listened to Peter and nodded politely, waiting patiently for him to move the topic back to what David had wanted him to announce. Yet he didn't say anything for another slow, dragging minute.

"Peter." David said sternly again.

His older, oddball brother looked up again.

The hotel manager sighed, "The _supplies?... _That we're _gifting_ to our friends?"

Peter stared back blankly again, before snapping his fingers the moment he remembered.

"Of course!" The strange Englishman said, "Myself and Dave here are bloody sure that the supply of goods we are giving you will be more than to your liking."

Peter then stood up fast, the quickest anyone had seen him move. He walked over to the opposite corner of the basement and began dragging another crate out. It was long and rectangular again, just like the one he'd opened for Sawyer and Vic the night before.

Ellie started getting giddy. She'd not seen the crate of guns that Peter had opened the previous night, so it was a new experience for her. Vic could see her at his side, eyes widening and a big grin forming. He could only laugh quietly to himself since the crate was probably only filled with a few weapons and some rations for the journey, nothing too exciting which Ellie was probably expecting.

Soon enough, Peter pulled the crate over to the trio and sat it at Vic and Ellie's feet. He then opened it, revealing the contents. Much to all three's surprise, there was quite a bit more than what the deputy had been expecting to see.

"So, would you like me to run through the wares?" Peter asked of the trio.

"Yes!" David then said, "They very much _would_ like you to do that, dear brother."

The older Anderson smiled, nodded once and then proceeded to crouch next to the crate and started pointing.

"Three spare revolvers, in case you run thin. One Double-Action, two Volcanic." Peter said, "Then here we have what we call a Litchfield Repeater. A very accurate, powerful rifle, the very best of quality."

Sawyer started eyeing the rifle up immediately. He'd used a Litchfield Rifle in the past, one that he and Roland had stolen. They were excellent weapons. He just hoped that Vic was happy enough with his Bolt-Action.

Peter then pointed at a small leather bag in the corner of the crate, "In this sack are your food supplies. Cans of beans, meat and other vegetables, to be eaten either warm or cold."

Vic and Sawyer both nodded slowly. The pace at which Peter Anderson did almost everything was starting to weigh down on their already tired minds. The two of them felt as though they could fall asleep at any moment if the man didn't speed up in some way.

"We have also stored in here a few portions of raw meat, from the remains of an Elk. Just do make sure to roast it thoroughly over a fire before consuming, eh?" Peter informed, "There's also an adequate amount of ammo boxes for both the weapons you're carrying _and_ the aforementioned firearms inside the crate. Along with two bandolier's for use in the event they are needed."

Ellie had to nudge Vic from a sleepy haze. The lawman looked as though he was about to poke his eye out with the burning cigarette ember. Sawyer also kept dragging his smoke and tapping his head against the wall as to not fall asleep on his feet. Little did either man know what the Anderson brother was about to reveal underneath everything else in the box.

"And now we come to the main attraction." Peter said, lifting the guns and bags of food, "Four bundles of dynamite."

That woke Vic up and got Sawyer and Ellie's attention. They were stored underneath everything else. Four big circular bundles, with the sticks of dynamite looping around each other. It was probably enough to bring down the entire hotel and then some. The sight even caused the young outlaw to cough on his cigarette.

"Whoa!" Ellie said with awe, "What fuck are we gonna use _that_ stuff for?!"

Peter pointed at Ellie after laughing, "_You_ get to decide that young lady."

"Damn straight I do!" The huntress then agreed with excitement.

Vic looked back at her, "You fuckin' do _not._"

The girl frowned, but said nothing back for once. Maybe the topic of extremely dangerous explosives made her understand the gravity of the situation. Vic wasn't going to let her fiddle around with it, but even _he_ didn't really know why the Anderson's were giving them _that_ kinda weaponry. They were trying to stop Roland Payne from robbing the bank, but that didn't involved bringing down the entire bank itself.

David then stepped forward, "Now please do realise we have given you the explosives purely for the event of an emergency... A last resort, if you will."

"True enough." Peter said, nodding in agreement, "Only use if and when absolutely necessary. Because I can assure, when these sort of bundles go off, every person within a twenty _yard_ radius will turn to dust, and anyone within a twenty _mile_ radius will know about it."

"We just recommend using it sparingly... When the occasion _truly_ calls for it." David then advised, "But I'm entirely certain you all understand, so I will refrain from patronising you all any longer."

Sawyer then finished his smoke and put the flame out with the underside of his boot, "Pretty sure we'll find some way to use it, eh Vic?"

"Absolutely." Vic said, "But we didn't need all this, you both know that, right?"

The Anderson brothers just smiled, almost blushed at Vic's words. Deep down they were very kind people, despite their rather unethical side business. They were grateful for what Vic and Sawyer had done for them, and therefore wanted to show their gratitude as much as possible.

"Victor, you have always been too modest." David said, finishing his pipe, "Without yourself or Mr. Sawyer here, we'd be a lot worse off. This crate of supplies is the least we can do to aid the three of you on your daring objective."

Vic finished his own smoke and nodded once again in gratitude. At that moment, he became assured that coming to the Anderson brother's for help was absolutely right.

"So, I think now would be the best time for my dear sibling to help you get these supplies onto your respective horses." David said, looking at Peter.

His brother was now sitting down at the desk again, eyes closed, facing the ceiling. Any minute it seemed he would probably start snoring. Ellie snorted with laughter in the corner. The girl had a funny appreciation for the much stranger Anderson brother. Vic and Sawyer on the other hand, simply turned from Peter and back to David.

The younger Anderson sighed once more, "Second thought, maybe _I_ should help you instead. What do you say, Victor?"

Vic stood up again from the camp bed, "I say that's a damn good idea, Dave."

Both the deputy and the Englishman closed the crate of supplies, each lifted it from both ends and began carrying it up the concrete stairwell. It didn't look very heavy to either Ellie or Sawyer, given that both Vic and David seemed to do it with ease.

Peter then indeed started to snore a little. The oddball was sleeping soundly with his arms folded and his boots hoisted onto the desk again, making Ellie laugh even more and Sawyer to look on with bewilderment.

"Fuckin' weird guy, ain't he?" She giggled to Sawyer.

Sawyer took off his duster cap to pat it against his leg, "Sure is. Ain't like any fella I've ever known, put it that way."

"Wow, and I guess _you've_ known some fuckin' scumbags in your time, huh?"

Sawyer frowned at Ellie as he put the cap back on, "That's a little harsh, ain't it?"

Ellie's mouth twirled and she shrugged, "Yeah, maybe. But don't take it personally, you big wimp."

The girl then winked and gently elbowed the outlaw in the ribs before taking both her bow and knife and heading up the stairs behind Vic and David. Sawyer was once again left alone, albeit in the company of a sleeping kook.

The outlaw was happy to be finally leaving Strawberry. The threat of his neck being snapped was starting to get overwhelming. The Anderson's had done more than he'd ever expected them to do, given he was one of the culprits causing havoc in town weeks before. But alas, just like Ellie and Vic, they'd shown him no real judgment, and for that he felt happy and appreciative, but still far from deserving.

Once Peter started snoring even louder, echoing off of the basement's walls, Sawyer took himself up the steps and back into the warmer air of the hotel lobby.


	18. Chapter XVII

**CHAPTER XVII**

**_STRAWBERRY, WEST ELIZABETH, JUNE 9TH 1900_**

Around to the side of the Welcome Center was where the horses were hitched. April was stood still, calm and easy as ever. Friday, however, was acting a little feisty, might've even had a thing for the pearlescent mare stood next to him. As soon as Ellie saw him she ran up to her stallion and began to caress his neck. The huntress hadn't really had the chance to see him when her and Sawyer had arrived the night before, so he was a welcomed sight.

As Ellie stroked her hand down Friday's neck and snout, the horse became visibly giddy. He was almost shaking with excitement, gently rubbing his nose against her.

"Aww, how's my big fella, huh?!" She giggled, "Hope you were a good boy for old Vic."

"Nah, he wasn't." Vic muttered as he appeared around the corner, "Easier to ride a fuckin' bull than that thing."

Ellie laughed before looking back at the horse, "Just gotta get used to you, ain't he?"

"Yeah? Well, I'd sooner get used to walkin." Vic said, unhitchinhg April's reigns.

The girl giggled again before taking Friday's reigns in hand. Just before leading him, she checked her satchel on the saddle to make sure all of her trinkets and shiny valuables were still there. To her relief, they were.

"Atta girl. We're gonna get you to a warmer place soon." Vic said while leading April, stroking her neck and feeling her slightly chilled fur.

"Where we goin' now then, Vic? That big town?" Ellie asked, leading Friday alongside.

"Yup, _Saint Denis_ or somethin'." Vic replied, "Big city down south in Lemoyne."

Ellie whistled in awe, "Wow... D'ya think it's as big as they reckon?"

"I guess it could well be." Vic said with a shrug, "Apparently the place is bigger than Blackwater, and _that_ place is pretty sizable."

"And that's where this Roland fucker's gonna be robbin' that bank?"

Vic just nodded. Ellie noticed that he seemed to be thinking real hard about the job. She'd seen Vic take down scumbags all her life, since the first days she could toddle on her feet. But she'd _never_ seen him _that_ cautious and quiet about a job. Now and then she thought he might even be a little afraid. But she soon fought back those feelings. Vic wasn't afraid of no man, she thought.

"We'll get that piece of shit, Vic." Ellie said with a confident smirk, "I know it."

"Oh yeah? How d'ya figure?" Vic asked, pulling out a smoke.

The huntress shrugged her little shoulders, "Just got a feelin', you know?"

The deputy smiled back at his young friend. At that age, her confidence was still real strong. Vic longed for the days where _his_ was still like that. Sadly, those days had long passed and he truly _was_ unsure about how the job was going to go down once he, the girl and Sawyer had got to the big city down in Lemoyne.

A lot of it was riding on the shoulders of the young outlaw. He knew more about Roland Payne than anyone _and_ knew more about Saint Denis than Vic and Ellie put together. Fortunately, Sawyer was one of the few things that Vic _did_ have full confidence in. The kid hadn't let any of them down yet and he had certainly held his own no matter what had happened.

Back in front of the hotel, at the bottom of the oak steps, David stood lighting his pipe again. At his feet was the crate of supplies that he and Peter were gifting to the trio. David was squinting at the bright sun in the sky and looking very joyful. Strawberry wasn't yet fully awake. Some residents were obviously still in their beds, which in turn had caused some store's to delay their opening. This had given the hotel manager the perfect window to get Sawyer out of town unnoticed.

"Beautiful morning, wouldn't you agree, Victor?" David said with a big grin.

Vic nodded, "Seen worse."

"Ah! Don't talk such utter manure, Victor." The Englishman laughed, "You come from the deep sun scorched plains of New Austin! I can picture quite a powerful amount of gorgeous mornings."

"Yup... Fair point." Vic said, walking over, "Home's definitely got it's benefits."

"Indeed." David said with an oddly blank expression, "Oh and just for your own knowledge, Victor, I have sent Mr. Sawyer on a different route out of Strawberry. I thought it best that he take the quietest path possible."

"Definitely for the best. I'm sure he'll be fine on his own until we meet him." The deputy replied.

The two men stood side by side, smoking their respective tobaccos, looking up at the blue, almost cloudless sky. It seemed that with every few minutes, Strawberry got brighter. The town was a luscious place, definitely the best Vic had seen in the East. He could totally understand why the Anderson brothers had set up their business there.

"So, you expectin' business to boom now?" Vic asked.

David glared, "I certainly expect it to exceed recent profits, yes. But I doubt there will be any sort of _boom_ for quite some time. Thanks to the activities of your young accomplice and his former gruesome ally, the amount of visitors to Strawberry has dwindled within weeks."

"I'm sure it'll pick up." The deputy said, trying to help reassure David in some way.

"Oh yes, no doubt." David replied, his cheerful demeanour suddenly coming back, "And I am equally sure that you, young Ellie and Mr. Sawyer will succeed in wiping away Roland Payne and anything that comes with him."

Vic blew out a big cloud of smoke, "That's the plan... Just not entirely sure it's gonna go down the way we hope."

"_Hope_ doesn't facilitate thing's going the right way, Victor." David said, "All you, Ellie and Mr. Sawyer must do is what you all agree is the right course of action. And while I know that my advice here is quite commonplace these days, I feel that is all I need to give you. Among with this box of supplies of course."

"Well... Thank you, David." Vic said, throwing the smoke away, "If all goes well down there, I'm pretty sure we'll all look give some credit back to you and your brother."

"Ah, please. None is necessary." David said, waving his hand modestly, "But I do believe it is about time we got these weapons and supplies onto your horses, Victor."

Vic nodded again, "Think you're about right."

The deputy then turned to his left and saw Ellie fiddling with her knife and sticks again, this time while sitting in Friday's saddle. She had her enormous hat on again and looked ridiculous, Vic thought.

"Ellie!" Vic shouted, "Come on over here, I need help with this!"

When the deputy turned back, he saw that David had dashed off into the hotel lobby, looking as though he was in a hurry for something. Turning around again, Ellie was then suddenly in front of him. She had a habit of moving quickly and silently.

"A'ight, so we need to share the guns and food evenly on each horse." Vic said, "But the dynamite... _That's_ going on April."

Ellie scoffed, "Suit yourself, I don't want 'em."

Vic took off the crate's lid and the two began separating the contents into the two sacks. Ellie seemed to examine every single thing she picked up. At one point Vic had to click his fingers to snap her out of it and get her to move quicker.

"So how come Sawyer ain't out here yet?" She asked, her voice low.

"He is." Vic said, "But he's gone a different way outer town than us. Its best he get outer here fast. We'll meet him a mile or two down the road."

Ellie then started packing the cans of food, "What exactly did Sawyer _do_ here, Vic? Must be fuckin' bad to have people wantin' him dead."

"It wasn't really what _Sawyer_ did, Ellie. It was what _Roland _did." Vic said.

"So everythin' that piece of shit did... Sawyer's payin' the price for too, huh?" Ellie asked after a deep thought to herself.

Vic just nodded again, "Seems that way."

"You reckon he _didn't_ do anythin' then?" She asked.

The lawman stopped packing to look Ellie dead in the eye, "No, I don't. Why? You reckon he did?"

Ellie immediately shook her head, "Nope."

"Then why're you askin' me that for?"

"Ain't sure." She shrugged, "Hell, it's just that you're the law man. I thought that maybe you were still a tad suspicious of the guy."

Vic took a break from packing, sighed and squinted as he looked down the main street of Strawberry. Things were still quiet and the air was still cool. It was going to be so different down in Lemoyne. Vic had never been there but he'd heard stories. From the sounds of it, Lemoyne seemed more like New Austin. Hot, humid and full of nutjobs. The deputy was expecting to feel right at home when they got there.

"Nah... I reckon he's a'ight." Vic said after pausing, "Seems like a straight shooter to me, no matter what he used to do."

"Everybody's got a past." Ellie said, loading the last can of beans, "Just think of my Pa."

Vic frowned at looked back at the girl, "What's that mean?"

"Well you always told me that he liked to steal stuff, right?"

"Ellie, your Daddy weren't no thief." Vic said, "He was a real good trader, through and through."

The huntress then frowned herself, "I remember you tellin' me that the stuff he traded was robbed from other places."

"Nah, he _dealt_ with _merchants._" Vic told her sternly, "Sure he would barter with 'em but everybody's gotta do that."

Ellie kept listening.

"Now... Where those merchants got _their _stock from, we got no idea." Said the deputy, "But make no fuckin' mistake, your Daddy was a good man and never crossed nobody."

"A'ight." Ellie said glaring, "Guess I got my fact's mixed up somewhere."

Vic then finished off loading the dynamite, "That's a'ight... Just don't want you ever thinkin' wrong of your Pa."

As both the girl and the lawman stood up with the sacks, Ellie gestured a sarcastic salute with a big grin, "Yes, _Deputy_."

Vic smirked, wrapped his arm around her neck, removed the hat and tried to rough her hair up. She giggled and smacked his back and chest to try and wriggle her way outer the hold. Vic laughed mockingly at her attempts to escape before finally releasing her.

"Pathetic." He said with a laugh, "Remember, always go for the back of the leg."

Ellie giggled to herself, "I know! Just didn't wanna hurt ya!"

"Yeah, sure." Vic grinned.

Afterwards the two finally got the sacks of supplies hooked onto their respective saddles and lead the horses to the edge of the bank. It wouldn't take very long to get outer town and meet Sawyer, and given that time was already narrowing it was for the best that they leave real soon. Vic instinctively went to help Ellie get onto of Friday, but instead found himself watching her manage to do it herself in one go. He was definitely impressed with how she was growing and learning.

Just as Vic himself was then stepping into April's stirrups, he noticed David come jogging on outer the hotel lobby again.

"Victor! Do indulge me for one last moment, old chap!" He called out.

The deputy stepped outer the stirrup and looked back to his ally, "Yup?"

"In my haste I forgot to hand you these." David said, slightly out of breath, holding an envelope.

Vic took it from the Englishman and promptly opened it up. Inside there were three train tickets, all destined for Saint Denis, going from Riggs Station which was only a few miles South-East of town.

Vic looked to his friend, "Why'd you do that, Dave?"

Smiling, modestly as always, David tipped his head, "One last gift, old boy, entirely from myself. Do get to the city quickly and put an end to that dire human being, won't you?"

The deputy nodded gracefully in return with a delighted grin, "We will, Dave. Believe me."

"Oh and one last thing." David said again suddenly, reaching into his suit pocket.

Vic looked back to Ellie who was sitting atop of Friday, once again sharpening sticks with her knife. Vic never noticed where she'd get the wooden sticks from, yet she always seemed to have a decent amount.

Upon looking back to the hotel owner, he was holding out a second envelope.

"Not for yourself this time, Victor." He said.

Vic took the second envelope and saw that it had 'STUART' written on it in elegant handwriting. He couldn't recall the Anderson brothers ever mentioning a man by that name, so it took the lawman by surprise.

"It's for our brother." David revealed, "I know it'll come as a shock and possibly with some fear that there is indeed a third one of us."

"He lives in Saint Denis?" Vic asked with a chuckle.

"Lives _and_ works there, old chap. He is an accountant in one of the city's smaller bank branches. Surely not the same one that Roland Payne will be raiding, so I can assure you I am _not_ worried for his safety."

"Why not just send it at a Post Office?" Vic asked.

David smiled and laughed almost nervously, "We'd just rather he get it personally from somebody. And given my other sibling sometimes suffer's from rather sticky chairs, you are the only one I can entrust the matter to."

Vic looked at the envelope for a moment before pocketing it within his blue velvet coat, "You got it, Dave. And thank you, for everything you've done. And Peter too."

"No thanks needed at all, dear boy." David said once again, this time extending his hand, "Good luck... And please do return."

"Of course." Said the deputy.

Vic shook David's hand, the two men tipped their heads to each other once more before finally bidding farewell. Vic climbed April's stirrups, got into the saddled and grabbed her reigns. David then waved his hand at Ellie who giggled before waving back with a huge smile. She'd definitely taken to the Anderson's and hoped that she would indeed see them again soon.

"Let's go, girl." Vic whispered to his mare.

April promptly began trotting down the bank, away from the Welcome Center. Ellie gave Friday a nudge with her ankles too, and the stallion soon followed the white mare. Ellie took a glance back over her shoulder to David, who was still stood watching at the bank's peak, smoking his pipe once more. She was going to miss those two strange fella's, but was confident that one day, maybe soon, she'd be back.

The duo made their way out of Strawberry pretty fast, just as the town's citizens started to appear and begin their normal morning routines. Vic hadn't really had the time to relish his visit to the quiet mountain town, so he wasn't about to start grieving it's absence. Ellie on the other hand was going to miss it a lot. Seeing it in broad daylight had really shown her its true beauty _and_ stark difference from the world she'd gotten used to back home.

"I'm gonna miss this place." She said across to Vic.

"It ain't goin' anywhere, Ellie." Vic replied, "And neither are Dave and Peter."

"Are you sayin' you'll bring me back here?"

Vic smiled at her slyly, "I'll think it over."

"Fuck you." Ellie said playfully after scoffing, "If you don't, I'm comin' back on my own."

"I just bet you will." Vic said with a laugh, "But I don't think our outlaw friend's gonna have the same feelin'."

_Meanwhile..._

Sawyer had his red bandana now wrapped around his face again. The town might've been quiet and seemingly empty that morning, but he wasn't about to take any chances. He rode Neigan steadily and calmly, trying to keep his head down as much as he could. David had brought him to Neigan and then guided him to a much narrower, quieter route out of Strawberry by going around it's entire edge. It had taken longer than the direct route, but the outlaw felt relieved when he finally came upon the town's exit.

"There we go." Sawyer whispered to his horse, patting his neck, "We're home free, boy."

Trotting down the rocky footpath, Sawyer removed his bandana slightly. He didn't want to look too much like a bandit, because that could draw even _more_ attention. He just hoped the duster cap and the stubble growing ever so slowly on his face would mask him enough from any passersby. It was a mile down the mountain that he was told to wait, as Vic and Ellie were hot on his tail. Once he got there, astonishingly passing nobody, Sawyer brought Neigan to a stop and enjoyed the views.

Off in the distance he could see the fields and hills of West Elizabeth once again. This time they were only partially lit thanks to the ever rising sun. The outlaw even noticed a slight morning mist on the prairies, where the humid air was hitting the much cooler grass and soil. Everything was a beautiful mixture of green and orange, and Sawyer found himself entranced by the gorgeous landscape that he could see from halfway down the small mountain.

While waiting, he fed Neigan an apple, took off his cap to dust it against his thigh and basked in the peace and serenity of the land in which he was wanted. The events which had gotten him to that point were starting to irritate him ever more. If only things had gone differently, he thought.

"Hey, kid!" Sawyer then heard Vic shout.

Turning to his right, the young outlaw saw both the deputy and the girl riding their horses down the same road. They had a sack of supplies hung on both saddles. Vic was smoking a cigarette and the girl was taking in the views just as the fugitive himself was.

"Don't be day dreamin' out here!" Vic called out, "Anyone could fuckin' recognise ya!"

Sawyer shook his head, "Ain't seen a fuckin' soul since I left the hotel."

"Shame that... It's a nice mornin'" Ellie then said.

Once the two of them came to the same spot as Sawyer, all three horses began trotting in unison. All three seemed to get along fine. April was in the middle with Neigan and Friday on either side. As Vic's mare was the biggest, most majestic and strong, she automatically took lead.

"There enough food to last us the journey?" Sawyer asked, "Long fuckin' road to Lemoyne."

"Ain't a worry." Vic replied.

"Oh yeah, how come?" The outlaw then enquired.

Vic pulled out the three tickets from his coat, "David was kind enough to buy us all a train ride, all the way to Saint Denis."

Sawyer's eyes widened, he wasn't expecting that one. He'd been psyching himself up all morning for a long trek to the South-East state. But now, to his relief, they had an easy one way trip there.

"Jesus fuckin' christ!" The outlaw said with astonishment, "That's a little... _Generous..._ ain't it?"

Vic shrugged when putting them back in his coat, "I thought the same, but I guess he was just grateful for what we done for 'em."

Sawyer then nodded slightly in agreement, but the girl wasn't about to have them think so little of the Anderson's.

"_Or_ they're just nice fella's." Ellie said, wincing, "That _is_ possible, ya know."

That remark closed both of the men's mouths. The girl had a point, but the two men hadn't really thought that generosity was still a common trait to be found. Sawyer had lost that belief awhile ago and Vic had long forgotten it had ever really existed, despite whatever the Anderson's had done for him.

Nobody could say that Ellie's words hadn't worked, as it took a good few minutes for anyone to speak again. In the meantime, all the trio did was trot further down the mountain and feel the heat of the rising sun on their faces. It reminded Vic and Ellie particularly of home, whereas Sawyer had little to no reaction, other than to fully remove his bandana and cap in order to really feel the warmer air.

"So, you thought've a plan for when we get there?" Sawyer asked, turning to Vic.

"I figure we wait for him to attack the bank, and when he does... We get him." Vic said casually, lighting another smoke.

Sawyer laughed, "You really think its gonna be that easy?"

Vic shrugged, "Probably not, but I ain't got much else. I don't even know what the fuckin' place looks like."

"But _you_ do." Ellie then spoke up, looking at the outlaw, "What's that place _really_ like, Sawyer? Is it actually that huge?"

Sawyer's face twisted as he thought about it, "Yup, it's real big a'ight... But trust me, it ain't like you hear."

"What d'ya mean?" She asked.

"All those tales you both have probably heard, about it bein' this giant, gorgeous haven. None of that's true." Sawyer said grimly, "From a distance... Sure, it looks real darn pretty... But when you actually get into the thick of it... In the streets... It ain't nothin' but gutter."

Vic glared in surprise, "Really? How would you know that then, kid?"

"I grew up in Saint Denis." Sawyer revealed, "I never knew my Ma or my Pa... I was in an orphanage there, as far as my earliest memory's go. As I grew up, we were all just little street beggars before eventually turnin' into young robbers. We stole from anyone that we could lure into dark alley's... Rich fuckers... Old gals... Even _lawmen_ if we were lucky enough to trick 'em."

The deputy and the huntress kept silent, allowing the outlaw to continue.

"Did that until I was around sixteen... Never really had any friends, since we all eventually turned on each other anyway." Sawyer said, "And we weren't the only gang of fuckin' thugs and scumbags in that town... 'Cause the rich and wealthy cocksuckers were always robbin' the poor... Only difference is what they do is fuckin' legal."

As Sawyer continued on, everything fell silent. So engrossed, neither Vic nor Ellie could hear anything else other than his words.

"The big players of town soon whipped our little asses into shape... And before long, when I was around twenty, I finally up and left that shithole." Sawyer said with big sigh, "Spent some years runnin' with some bad folk, as you know... And what do they say? The rest is fuckin' history."

Once the outlaw had finished his little tale, Vic and Ellie could only glance at one another in awe, clearly moved by the young fugitive's words. Neither could remember him ever opening up _that_ much to them. It showed how comfortable he'd gotten, even in just two days. And given that he himself admitted that he'd never had what he would call _real_ friends, the two New Austin natives felt somewhat privileged.

Another few quiet moments went by, with the sounds of the horses' trots and the birds overhead finally coming back. Both the Deputy and the girl both still wanted to politely give the outlaw some time to speak, just in case he hadn't finished.

"Anyway..." He finally said, breaking the stillness, "You get my point... The place ain't nice, so don't let the fuckin' bullshit stories cloud your minds."

Ellie's expression turned sad as she trotted along. She'd been expecting to see exactly what she'd heard the people of New Hanover talk about. A giant city, full of big houses, tall buildings and the kinda people she'd only ever thought about in her imagination. To hear Sawyer trash the place truthfully disappointed her ever so slightly.

Vic on the other hand, didn't care much. He'd never been a huge fan of places like Blackwater. They all looked so alien to him, like they didn't belong. Too many people, too many things to go wrong, he always thought. So to hear that Saint Denis was, in reality, just a colossal cesspit of misery did not surprise him whatsoever.

"Sorry, by the way." Sawyer then said, putting his cap back on and wiping his bruised face, "I didn't mean to go off an a tangent like that."

"Hey, it ain't bad." Vic then said with a chuckle, "Was just worried I'd need to throw you a rag to wipe away your tears."

The two fellas then laughed, with Ellie just grinning at their seemingly odd friendship. She could never recall Vic having anyone he'd call a friend since her Daddy had passed on. She could see already that he and Sawyer were alike in that sense. The huntress just would never have predicted that a friend of Vic's would be the type of person he'd usually snap the neck of.

"Was nice, Sawyer." Ellie then said, leaning over Friday's head, "Didn't think you'd share somethin' like that. Not to us at least."

Sawyer scoffed, "Haven't shared that with _anybody_, Ellie. Not even Roland, when we rode together. Wasn't the type of guy that liked hearin' stories."

"Just screams?" She than asked.

The outlaw nodded while staring out at the views, "Yup... You could say that."

"Well, gettin' back to point..." Vic started, throwing away the latest cigarette, "I say we get on that train at Riggs Station first and while we're on our way there, you can tell me all about the place and what'd be the best plan of action."

"Got yourself a deal there, Vic." Sawyer replied, giving the lawman a thumbs up.

With that, the trio headed further on down the mountain until they reached the base and made it onto the large, far stretching prairies. The difference in temperature wasn't too great but it was enough to get Vic to remove his coat. The differences in the land, however, were so clearly apparent. There were more signs of wildlife and vegetation. Ellie even noticed the first people they'd seen since they'd left Strawberry. Two folks were riding along far behind them on the same road.

Once the horses slowed back into a trot, the deputy wasn't entirely sure which direction to go in to reach Riggs Station, so he thought it best to ask to the person most familiar with the area.

"Sawyer." Vic called out, "You know where Riggs Station is from here?"

"Around two miles south-east." Sawyer replied, pointing his hand down the dirt road, "We're on the right path. Just need to keep goin'."

Vic nodded, "A'ight, good. How d'ya intend to go unseen until we're on that train?"

"It's early mornin'." Sawyer said, "Hopefully the place ain't too crowded... And I'll just keep myself to myself."

"If that don't work, we could always just say that Vic's takin' you in." Ellie joked with her usual smirk.

The outlaw laughed and tipped his head, because that _was_ a decent idea even though she was just kidding around. Sawyer was definitely a lot less concerned about Riggs Station compared to how he felt about Strawberry. Once he was on that train, he was gonna be outer West Elizabeth fast and clear to do what he pleased.

Pushing on down the dirt road and into a patch of woodland, Ellie glanced behind herself again and noticed the two strangers on horseback were even closer to the trio then they had been minutes before. They could've been in a hurry, she thought, but nevertheless, something didn't seem right about it. Ellie might've been young, but she was far from stupid when it came to shady folk.

"What's goin' on?" Sawyer then said aloud.

Vic and the outlaw suddenly pulled their horses' reigns, bringinf them to a stop, skidding their hooves across the gravel. The huntress was then forced to do the same behind them, unable to see why.

The deputy started squinting and leaning forward to make out something in the distance. Sawyer was doing the same, one hand now on his Schofield's grip, Ellie noticed. Things were starting to make sense to her, if what the two men were looking at was what she thought.

"Lawmen?" Sawyer then asked, turning to Vic.

"They're wearin' suits, but I ain't too sure." The maverick deputy then replied.

Ellie's eyes widened again once she turned back for a third time to see the two strangers on horses were even _closer_ now. She wasn't sure what to do, so she soon turned back to Vic and Sawyer.

"We got two fuckers on our rear. Been there awhile." She whispered hastily, "Think it's 'bout time I let you know."

Turning back, Vic and Sawyer noticed that the two men trotting down on horseback were also wearing what looked to be raggedy suits. Like they'd been creased, dirtied and ruined. That was too much of a coincidence, Vic thought.

"Think we're bein' flanked?" Sawyer asked.

The deputy kept looking out at the strangers with deep thought.

"I _know_ we're bein' fuckin' flanked." Ellie said with certainty.

Vic still didn't respond. Instead he just sat upright and folded his arms. Sawyer and Ellie could only look at one another in confusion. It wasn't like Vic to not plan or act in any way. The outlaw kept his hand on the grip of his revolver and Ellie had never even let go of her bow since she'd set off in Strawberry.

After a minute of silence, the four rough looking men in suits came upon the halted trio in the middle of the small forest. They themselves stalled their horses and stood still in the dirt, staring at the three renegades.

Vic was still blankly staring right at them, arms folded with seemingly no care.

"Help you with somethin'?" The deputy then finally spoke up.

The four men were ugly, with shabby hair and broken teeth. Though they _were_ wearing suits, which Ellie found strange. It didn't match their faces at all. She kept her hand grasped tightly around her bow. Sawyer was simply observing their positions and making sure there wasn't any more of them hidden away in the bush.

"Matter o'fact, you certainly can, good sir." One man in front said before spitting, "You see, we here are investigators comin' from Rhodes. Headin' up to a town named Strawberry, not too far from here."

"That right?" Vic asked.

"Ohh you betcha." The man said, "Been a long journey on the road from Rhodes, as ya probably know."

"I'm sure it has."

"Right... And you see here, we been lookin' for a known criminal in the area. Caught word from a higher up that he was in Strawberry recently."

Vic kept staring, arms still folded. Sawyer and Ellie were frozen in position, expecting things to turn ugly real fast.

"Well I advise you best get movin' in that town's direction, men." Vic said, "'Cause he might slip away, if you keep wastin' your precious time with us."

The four men then laughed together, like a dreadful organised choir. Their voices were irritating and painful on the ears.

"Well you see... I'm askin' _you_ sir, as you're clearly a man of law." The main fella then said, pointing at Vic's visible badge, "Have you seen a man named '_Sawyer_'?"

The outlaw kept his eyes off of everyone but kept his hand hovering over his revolver. He wanted to kill all four of the scumbags, but if they really _were_ lawmen from Rhodes then he was only gonna get himself into more trouble. So alas, he let Vic do the talking.

Ellie was holding the tip of the arrow she kept hidden in her left boot. If things were to go south, she knew she could get an arrow off within seconds.

Vic shook his head, "Don't know anyone by that name."

"You see that's funny." The man laughed before slowly pointing, "'Cause we been told, its a young pretty boy, with a bruised face, red rag around the neck _and... _He's with a _deputy._"

Sawyer then locked eyes with the dirty suited man.

"And if I'm not mistakin'... I'd say _that's_ the fuckin' fella right there next to ya."

"Nah I don't think it is." Vic replied bluntly.

"I'd say that was aidin' and abettin'... As a fellow lawman."

Vic scoffed, "If you're a lawman... Then I'm a fuckin' whore... And last I checked, I didn't see no lady parts between my legs."

The four men started laughing in unison again, pointing at Vic as they howled.

"This fuckin' guy, huh?!" The main man said, laughing loudly.

_"KILL 'EM!"_

The four strangers in suits began to reach for their guns, but having called their bluff from first glance, Vic unfolded his arms so fast that nobody saw him do it, pulling both LeMats from each holster. The deputy then aimed each barrel at the two scumbags in front, firing immediately and blowing holes in each of their foreheads.

_"ELLIE!"_ Vic then shouted.

The command wasn't needed, as Ellie had already turned back around and fired her bow at one of the men at the rear. The arrow punctured the man's jugular, causing blood to flow profusely from the wound. He wasn't dead yet, but he soon dropped his gun and began trying to stop the bleeding whilst his horse bolted. Soon enough, the stuck goon was thrown to the floor and weakening by the second.

The last remaining stranger had his revolver aimed directly at Sawyer, who threw himself from Neigan as the man fired. The bullet missed completely and hit a chunk of tree off in the bushes.

Landing hard on his back, Sawyer felt the shooting pains come back for a moment. He'd thought his ribs had healed, but obviously not completely.

The stranger was in a panic, having lost his three buddies in a matter of seconds, so he kept firing in Sawyers direction on the ground. Luckily the outlaw rolled outer the way fast, despite the discomfort, making every bullet hit the dirt.

_"FUCK!"_ The final stranger shouted.

He kept trying to shoot Sawyer until his revolver was emptied of bullets and it could only click. Everything at that point fell silent again. The goon soon realised he had no rounds left and his face dropped. The horse below him was still standing still, not scared or startled by the commotion at all. The suited man then turned to see both the deputy and the girl aiming their weapons directly at him.

Sawyer managed to get himself back up off of the ground and calm Neigan down slightly.

"It's okay, boy... Everythin's gonna be a'ight." The outlaw said gently to his stallion, out of breath.

The ugly man soon dropped his gun and started laughing nervously to himself about the situation. He knew he was finished, but found it comical at how easily the trio had taken three men down with little to no effort.

Sawyer then unholstered his Schofield and stood next to Vic who was still horseback. The two men glared at the laughing man. Ellie had another arrow pointed at his face and wanted to release it _so badly_.

"Ellie." Sawyer then said, "No need to waste a good arrow."

"No need to waste _ammo_ ya mean." The girl said stubbornly.

Vic then piped up, "Ellie. You just keep that arrow. No need to waste it on this fella."

Ellie kept aiming for a moment before doing as Vic and Sawyer said. She lowered the bow and slotted the arrow back into her boot.

The ugly fella was still smirking and chuckling slightly at everything he saw before staring blankly at the lawman and the fugitive.

"You workin' for Roland?" Sawyer asked, "And Agent Wilson?"

The man did not reply, he just kept laughing.

"You ain't really the law at all, are ya?" Vic asked.

Cackling to himself even more, the stranger began to slowly shake his head.

After one final glance at eachother, Vic and Sawyer opened fire on the man, planting a hale of bullets each into his torso, throwing him right off of his horse and into the dirt. Soon enough the horse reared, screamed and then ran off, just like the other three had done.

Ellie looked down at the dead man and laughed to herself before spitting on his body. Sawyer holstered his revolver and then went to inspect one of the dead bodies.

"What you thinkin'?" Vic asked, putting both LeMat's back in their places.

Sawyer grabbed one of the men Vic had killed and looked underneath the suit jacket. Sure enough, he'd been wearing a raggedy green shirt. The men also stunk of general dirt and grime. They were _not_ lawmen, but they were O'Driscoll's in some sort of terrible disguise.

"O'Driscoll's again... Roland's men." Sawyer confirmed, "Probably workin' for Wilson too."

Vic nodded, "Thought so. Not sure how they expected those suits to work."

"Well they ain't never been the brightest bunch of fucks, let me tell ya."

Everyone was quiet for another minute, truly taking in what had just occurred. Ellie looked pleased with herself, having known early on that something was gonna go down.

Sawyer and Vic on the other hand, felt less enthusiastic. They both thought the same thing without speaking. That this whole vendetta had to be soon put to rest. They're patience was dwindling and they found themselves wanting Roland dead more than ever before.

"A'ight... Let's search the bodies, get 'em dumped in the grass and keep movin'" Vic said confidently, "I think it's 'bout time we got to that shithole town and ended this."

Sawyer nodded in agreement while staring down the dirt road, imagining what that would actually feel like when it came to be.

The trio then relieved the dead O'Driscoll's of their possessions, hid their corpses in the bush just as Vic said, and then climbed back into their respective saddles. The horses had amazingly not been spooked by the incident at all. It was apparent that they were just as strong as their owners were.

In a mutually comfortable silence, the three renegades then galloped off down the road and were soon out of the small forest and back on the wide prairies. And after a few more miles, they finally saw Riggs Station coming up in the distance.


	19. Chapter XVIII

**CHAPTER XVIII**

**_NEW HANOVER, JUNE 9TH 1900_**

The weather had turned pale, with a heavy overcast reigning over the land. Rain had drizzled onto the glass windows of the carriage, but stopped just as soon as it had began. West Elizabeth was soon out of sight, and the weather had served as a rather unfriendly farewell.

Actually getting to Riggs Station however, and using the tickets from David to board the locomotive had been an easy ordeal. Almost as if life had decided to give the trio at least one break after the tough hardships of that morning as well as the previous two days.

With their horses stabled comfortably in one of the far end carriages, Sawyer, Vic and Ellie had all taken their seats together on the train in a relatively empty carriage. Other than them, there were only four other passengers, all seated separately across the rail-car, which was nice. If Vic or Sawyer wanted to discuss the events bound to take place within Saint Denis, then it served better to talk it over in as little company as possible.

The young huntress had never been on a train before, and ever since seeing it arrive on the station platform all the way to taking her seat, had been in absolute awe of it's size and structure. Ellie had only ever ridden horses for most of her life, with the occasional journey on a horse carriage with her Father or Vic. Never before had she seen anything remotely like the train, with it's high chimney constantly blowing out black fog and the long, far stretching line of carriages, each holding different amounts of strangers, of whom none seemed as astonished as she was.

"Do the folks around here get on these thing's a lot?!" She'd asked Vic earlier, as she walked down the carriage's aisle.

Vic had nodded, "Yup, every day. How a lot of the people here get themselves around."

"How come we don't got 'em back home?"

"We do, just ain't as common. I guess New Austin ain't quite caught up yet with the rest of the country." Vic had replied, exhaling smoke, "Which... Gotta admit, I'm thankful for."

Since the the train had jolted itself into movement and had set off far down the tracks, Ellie's eyes had not stopped gazing out of the windows, seeing the world move by like she hadn't seen it before. She was enthralled and it was nice to see, the outlaw next to her thought.

The girl and Sawyer sat together on one row, with Vic sitting alone on the seats behind them. The lawman took up two seats, comfortably extending his legs and feet across the pleasant, soft, patterned seats. All rows were made up of only two chairs each, all facing the same direction that the train was going. After awhile, Vic rested his head back on the window and closed his eyes. The journey to Saint Denis would likely be a few hours, so he wanted to catch up on as much sleep as he could.

Sawyer, on the other hand, didn't really feel that tired anymore. Now that the group were on the road to Saint Denis, and possibly only hours from being face to face with Roland, the outlaw couldn't rest his mind to that degree. Instead, he held his Pump-Action shotgun and started to clean it with some gun oil and a cloth.

Ellie still gazed out of the window at the wide expanse of trees and hills. Even in the grim and miserable overcast did New Hanover look beautiful. The huntress found the stark contrast between the lush greenery seen there and the more barren, sun-scorched brownness of home so interesting. She was amazed at how different the world could look, even when she was still, at least on paper, close to where she belonged.

"This shit is so fuckin' amazin'" She said, looking round at Sawyer.

The outlaw glanced at her briefly and chuckled, bringing a huge smirk out of Ellie for once rather than a fiery outburst.

"What?" She asked.

Sawyer just shook his head, "Nothin'... It's just funny is all."

"What is?" Ellie asked again, with more haste.

"Just... Seein' someone get on a train for the first time." He said with a grin, "Somethin' so small, but so fuckin' nice."

Ellie scoffed, "You don't think these thing's are pretty fuckin' incredible?"

"'Course I do. I remember gettin' on one for the first time myself." Sawyer said, wiping the shotgun, "Still prefer horses, though. More reliable, and more loyal. Much sooner place my money on Neigan than some fella in a boiler suit, a mile ahead."

The girl smiled and laughed with Sawyer again, "So, what're you sayin'? Neigan's the thing you trust the most?"

After sighing, the outlaw looked her in the eye and nodded nonchalantly, which took her by surprise. She had only been joking with him, but didn't expect the fella to admit that his own horse was the only loyal companion he thought he had in his life. Ellie's face showed clear confusion and surprise.

"Really? You ain't serious." The huntress said, with unfounded certainty.

Sawyer kept nodding and smiling, "I'm as serious about that as Vic is about the law."

"That's fuckin' depressin' ain't it?"

"If you wanna look at it a certain way, I guess it is." Sawyer said, "But I look at it my own way."

"A horse can't stab you in the back?" Ellie asked, "That the way you look at it?"

Sawyer didn't say anything back. Instead he took the few moments of silence to finish cleaning the shotgun. Afterwards, he loaded it with shells and laid it across his lap. Only then did he physically turn to Ellie.

"The way I look at it is this... That horse is one of the only things that ain't let me down in this god forsaken life of mine." Said the outlaw, "The other? Probably just myself."

Ellie's eyes then widened into a glare "You forgettin' me and Vic? 'Cause we ain't plannin' on lettin' you down. You expectin' us to?"

Sawyer laughed again, "Nah, I never said that, Ellie... And don't worry, I ain't tryin' to make some deep statement about fuckin' horses and loyalty. Was just statin' a point. So far, I ain't ever been given the best evidence to trust that many folks."

"Well then who exactly _do_ you really trust, Sawyer?" She asked, "If not just yourself and a fuckin' horse?"

"I trust what matters." Sawyer then stared back, "That's my answer."

"Well... Don't _we_ fuckin' matter to you?" Ellie asked, her face starting to scrunch.

"Sure, more than most." Sawyer said, "But hell, I do expect to be cut loose and forgotten once this is all fuckin' over."

The girl's face turned from anger to stern, "And why's that? Just 'cause _you_ don't think much of yourself? Get the fuck over it."

Sawyer's face twisted and he lent back in his seat, dumbfounded at such a remark being made by a girl of her age. Sure, she was an adult, but still younger than he was, and had a real knack for finding the sensitive spot on him. The outlaw wanted to reply but couldn't think of anything to say at first.

"I don't exactly follow." He said blankly.

"We're your fuckin' _friends_, Sawyer." Ellie said, "And from all the stories you tell, we're the only _actual_ ones you've ever had."

Sawyer kept listening as the girl continued.

"Stop lookin' down on yourself, it's fuckin' pathetic." Ellie said, "You're a'ight, and I know it... Obviously Vic does too, since you're the only damn criminal I've ever seen that he ain't fuckin' strangled or shot."

The young fugitive could hardly take such nice comments, to the point he had to look away, to his shoes, his shotgun, anywhere that wasn't Ellie. Even she noticed he couldn't accept what she was saying, but that wasn't going to stop her.

"Just because you done some bad things, don't make you a bad guy. Not in my books, anyway." The huntress said, "So please, pull your head outer your stubborn ass and remember, you do have _some_ worth, a'ight?"

Sawyer eventually looked back to his friend with a sly smirk, "So that's uh... Depressing, pathetic, criminal and stubborn... You wanna rip me another one, or are you all done?"

The New Austin girl's eyes widened with fury. It was almost as if Sawyer wasn't taking her seriously at a time that she was being so truthful.

The two then just sat, somberly glaring at one another for a few moments, letting the moving train rock their bodies around slightly. Eventually, as both _had_ expected, they started to grin and laugh again. Neither could seem to really get angry at the other, as much as Ellie maybe wanted to at times. Sawyer did have a tendency now and again to be sarcastic, but she managed to tolerate it. Just.

"You can be fuckin' annoyin' you know that?" Ellie said, grinning and shaking her head.

"Been told." Sawyer replied, "But don't hold it against me."

"I'll try not to."

The outlaw then nodded his head in gratitude, before unholstering his Schofield revolver and cleaning that gun too. Ellie watched him do it with great interest. She'd never seen Vic clean his LeMat's, but then again they were renowned for their reliability.

As she watched the young fugitive clean the revolver and appear to be in deep thought, she felt she needed to add something.

"How 'bout _you_ stop holdin' thing's against yourself too then, huh?" She asked, with a stubborn smile.

Sawyer stopped mid clean, sighed again, and looked at the girl, "I'll try not to."

"Good, thank you." The young huntress then said gratefully, before leaning forward and kissing the outlaw on the cheek.

The kiss took Sawyer by surprise, almost startling the outlaw. He stopped cleaning the revolver again and looked across at Ellie with a very blank expression. Words were flying around his head, but none were making their way to the mouth. What did she mean by doing that? He thought. Especially with Vic sitting just behind them?

"Anyhow, we probably got a long ways to go yet before we get to your fuckin' hometown." Ellie then said, breaking the silence and putting her hat against the window, "I'm gonna get myself some rest. Enjoy the ride, Sawyer."

The outlaw was still staring at the girl plainly, nodding. It took a good few minutes before the young renegade continued cleaning his firearm, which at that point took much longer to do than it usually would have.

That girl seemed to see through all of the cracks in people, Sawyer thought. No lie, whether it be to himself or others, seemed to get past her. He couldn't comprehend how she managed to do that. Maybe it was her daddy's bartering instincts, since Vic had mentioned her old man being a trading merchant. Or maybe it was even Vic himself, teaching her to spot liars, given he had to do it on the daily. Still, none of that explained the kiss.

Sawyer had been with women before, but only in saloon rooms, drunk on whiskey. No girl had ever kissed him soberly and without exchanging cash first, so it had really taking him off guard. It wasn't something he needed, not while his mind was consumed with other things, so he soon fought off the thought about the peck on his cheek and distracted himself with everything else.

Soon another hour had passed calmly, the train was many more miles down the tracks and the land outside started to change. The green fields were becoming more yellowish and flat. Chances were, the train was finally crossing the border and into the swampy marshes of Lemoyne, a treacherous and yet lush area. The outlaw had spent many a time in his youth running through those marshes, looking out for alligators and trying to collect rare bird eggs. It was a shame that Ellie and Vic were sleeping, he thought, since they both might've enjoyed the view.

The sun then started to break through the grey clouds and almost blind Sawyer as he sat alone. He pulled his duster cap down a little further to block the powerful light from his eyes. Everyone else in the cart seemed to be napping other than him. One stranger in the bottom corner was even snoring peacefully. Sawyer longed for a restful, uninterrupted sleep once in a while, but it still wasn't the time. He just continued cleaning anything he had on him that _could_ be cleaned. In the event he had to use _any_ of it, he didn't want to be let down.

Once he'd polished everything, including his knife, he sat and did nothing but think. About Roland, about the bank, about Vic, about the future and about Ellie. The outlaw couldn't settle his ever active mind.

Out of sheer boredom, Sawyer began to imagine what it was going to be like to finally put Roland Payne to rest. Was it going to be easy? Or was it going to be hard? Deep down, he knew it would probably be the latter. Having seen how dangerous the man was and how easy he found butchering people, Sawyer knew they were going to have to tread very lightly. Still, despite that, he welcomed any thoughts of killing him. The idea of beating him to a pulp, as he had done to Sawyer. Throttling him, as he had done to innocents. Shooting him point-blank, as he had watched Roland do to far too many.

Before those obsessive thoughts could take much of strong hold on him, Sawyer distracted himself again and began trying to think of better things. Things that prevented him from feeling so hateful of the world and the hands he'd been dealt through life. The young fugitive thought about Vic, he thought about Ellie and mainly of how accepting they'd both been of him. Sure, Vic had aimed a gun at Sawyer twice, but the reasons were understandable. Deep down, Sawyer knew that he and Vic were on the same page.

Nobody though, as far as the outlaw could recall, had ever given such warmth and acceptance like Ellie had. Since meeting her, the girl had shown extraordinary affection and kindness. She'd never looked down at him, or felt she was better than him. And she seemed to completely disregard everything that Sawyer had done up until that point. The stuff she _knew_ about anyways, he thought. The girl had even admitted, rather touchingly, that she and the deputy truly _were_ his _friends_. And that was something he would never forget.

As he then looked at Ellie as she slept peacefully, Sawyer wanted to thank her in some way. Since she was sleeping, words weren't going to cut it, and as the young huntress had done it to him first, the outlaw felt he should return the gesture. Slowly and gently he lent down to kiss her cheek too, yet his lips didn't make it all the way there, as the outlaw became startled by a certain sound. A lighting match.

Vic was now awake and had already lit a fresh cigarette before wafting the match, extinguishing the tiny flame. The lawman also wafted his white shirt's collar, sweating from the change in temperature now that they were further south. Sawyer could see the visible sweat patches on his dark-blue coat.

"Sawyer." The lawman greeted his friend, rubbing the bags under his eyes.

"Vic." The outlaw said, "Ain't gonna be too long now. We're in Lemoyne, so it should be another hour, max."

Vic took a big drag, "Lemoyne, huh? Is that why this carriage feels so fuckin' hot?"

"More than likely." Sawyer replied, "Hotter than New Austin?"

Vic blew air from his lips, "Feels like it, at least in here."

Soon, the deputy noticed that Ellie was sleeping soundly against the window. She was snoring ever so faintly, just like she had done the night before.

"She been sleepin' long?" He asked the outlaw.

"'Bout an hour. Must need it."

Vic rubbed his eyes again, "I know I fuckin' did."

The outlaw came to the conclusion that if Vic hadn't said anything by now, he clearly hadn't noticed seen Ellie kiss him. And consequently, it mean't he also didn't notice that the outlaw had _also_ went to gently peck her cheek too. Sawyer was more than fine with that, since if there was any danger around such an action, it was the deputy.

"You sleep a'ight?" Sawyer then asked.

"As good as I could on a fuckin' train." Vic said, "How 'bout you?"

Sawyer shook his head, "Ain't slept. Too busy thinkin'."

"Thinkin' what?"

"About everythin', and how it's all gonna play out when we get there, you know?"

Vic leaned onto the back of Sawyer and Ellie's row, "We're gonna manage, a'ight? Just like we've done so far. We're after Roland and we're gonna get him."

"We might be after Roland, but there's more than just him to worry about, Vic." Sawyer said, "You thought anymore about the fuckin' Pinkerton that's on our asses?"

Vic sighed and leaned back again into his own chairs. Agent Wilson _was_ on Vic's mind and had been quite a lot since he'd disappeared into the darkness the previous night. The lawman had simply just tried to block him out, since he couldn't think of any way to deal with him yet.

"You just let _me_ handle Wilson, kid." Vic told the outlaw rather sternly, "He ain't your problem, a'ight?"

Sawyer scoffed, "Damn right he ain't. 'Cause if he was, I'd have put a fuckin' bullet between his eyes long ago and been done with it."

"We ain't killin' law men." Vic said quietly, "Thought we agreed on that."

"Fair enough, I ain't sayin' we should." Sawyer whispered, "But if you can think of a better solution, I'm all ears."

Vic took another drag of his smoke, "You reckon he's gonna be in Saint Denis?"

"Absolutely, that slimy motherfucker's on Roland's side, remember? And he's gonna be there for his fuckin' cut of the robbery." Sawyer replied, his voice still low.

"Look, I'll handle it." Vic replied quietly after thinking for a moment, "If the time comes, I'll handle it."

The outlaw leaned forward, "And how exactly do you plan on doin' that?"

"I'll think of somethin'."

The outlaw sighed again, "Wish I had your confidence, Deputy."

"Well you oughta get some shut-eye, kid. That might help." Vic said, "Was a long night last night and could be an even longer evenin' today. And you ain't hardly slept for a fuckin' minute."

The outlaw winced and shook his head again, "I don't sleep a lot anyways, Vic... And even when I do, I dream of killin' him. Always serves as a good way to wake up disappointed."

Taking another puff of the smoke, Vic sat up and leaned back on Sawyer and Ellie's row again. The deputy and the outlaw were now within a real close earshot of each other.

"You let it get to you that much, huh?" The deputy asked, his voice low.

The fugitive nodded once, looking angry, "Just want that piece of shit dead."

"And he's gonna die." Vic then assured him, "Make no mistake."

Sawyer kept nodding, agreeing with what the deputy was saying. He knew Vic was right, but it didn't stop him being so impatient. The thought of getting revenge was becoming all too consuming on Sawyer's mind and the lawman could see that.

"How'd you even come to be on the same fuckin' road as him, kid?" Vic asked, taking another drag, "'Cause from where I've stood the last few days, you don't seem the type to ride alongside killers and thieves."

"If I'm gonna tell you that story, Vic... I'm gonna need a smoke."

Hearing the outlaws request, Vic promptly pulled out a fresh cigarette and offered it to him. Sawyer took the smoke and used his own matches to light it. Before continuing on, the younger man took a big drag and held it in for longer than usual, to the point that the smoke didn't even seem come back out when he exhaled.

"He was uh... In chains. You know, in one of those prison wagons." Sawyer said, "I was ridin' with a few thugs from Rhodes. Same shit as usual, robbin', pillagin' old folks on the trail."

"And _you_ did that stuff too?" Vic then asked.

Sawyer then turned properly to his friend and winced hard, "Ain't sure this is the right fuckin' time to pass judgments, deputy."

The lawman just raised a hand, nodded his head and backed off. He hadn't actually been judging Sawyer or making any assumptions at all, but clearly the topic at hand was a sensitive one to his younger companion, so he respected it and stopped talking.

"Anyhow, one mornin' we came up on this prison wagon. And all the fella's, includin' me at the time, didn't really like the concept around men of the law. No offence."

Vic finished his smoke and crushed the ember of his boot, "None taken."

"In the cage at the back, if I recall right, there was three prisoners." Sawyer said, "All in chains and those stupid fuckin' black and white clothes."

"You and the boys decided to free 'em all?" Vic then asked, through power of deduction.

Sawyer puffed away at his cigarette, nodding as he did.

"You know how it is... Criminals don't like the old idea of _other_ criminals bein' punished by the Marshall's." Sawyer said with a grin, "So yeah, the guys made quick work of the law men first and then we broke the lock of the cage and let the fuckers out."

"And Roland was one of 'em." Vic said, knowingly.

"Yup... First thing he did was snap one of the other prisoner's necks." Sawyer then admitted, "Apparently he'd owed Roland a lot of cash. Lord knows what for."

Since there was still time to kill, Vic sparked up another smoke. He then soon found that he was running low on cigarettes, so he was going to have to ration them until they got to Saint Denis. Once the fresh smoke was placed between his lips, he let the outlaw continue.

"For a few hours after, Roland rode with us, on the back of _my_ fuckin' horse." Sawyer said, "That's how me and him got talkin', you know? About how the guys I was already ridin' with were assholes."

"And you agreed with that?" Vic asked.

"Yes I fuckin' did, they _were_ assholes. But I didn't know_ yet_ that the guy I was makin' a deal with was worse than any of 'em." Sawyer replied, before dragging his cigarette to the end.

"Made a deal? How d'ya mean?" Vic then asked again.

Sawyer then crushed out the ember of his own smoke with his own boot before throwing the butt in a corner of the carriage.

"We kill the assholes from Rhodes, loot their shit and then ride on together... _That deal_." Sawyer said, his voice grim, "I guess we both thought we'd have a better chance if it were just the two of us instead of a huge fuckin' gang."

"Better chance at what?" Vic asked, "What exactly was the fuckin' goal?"

The young outlaw just shrugged his shoulders, "Money?... A better life somewhere else?... That's what _my_ goal was anyway. But Roland... He had different plans. At first though, he _did_ seem like a decent ally to have on my side after I watched him butcher all the fella's I'd been ridin' with in a fuckin' matter of seconds."

Vic became surprised at the way Sawyer was describing Roland. The deputy had seen first-hand how dangerous and unpredictable the man had seemed that night in the Cumberland Forest, but the outlaw seemed to be describing him as a real monster with, dare he say it, skills.

"Once they were dead and we'd taken their things, Roland and I just started travellin'." Sawyer said, "At first, I kinda liked the guy. He took no bullshit from anyone out there. I had more money in my satchel than I'd ever fuckin' had before."

"But I also had more Marshall's, Deputy's and any person who owned a gun after my ass than ever before." The outlaw continued, "He just kept... Killin' and killin' and killin'. There weren't no motive to it... Nothin' to gain... Just blood."

Vic stared at the younger fella ominously. He wasn't acting. It wasn't melodrama. As a lawman, Vic had seen liars and deceivers for as long as he could remember. But Sawyer wasn't one of them.

"Everythin' I told you back in the Valentine saloon was true, Vic." Sawyer said, feeling he had to assure, "Roland Payne will not hesitate to shoot me, you or even _Ellie_ if he wanted to."

The deputy then gave the girl a quick and careful glance. The idea of _anyone_ hurting her was _enraging_ to him. It seemed that Sawyer was managing to spread his abhorrence for Roland to Vic himself.

"But believe me... If he has the time and the place... He wouldn't shoot any of us..." Sawyer said slowly, "The man's got a taste for slow pain and torture. Just look at _my_ fuckin' face."

It was true, Sawyer's face was still reddish and bruised from the hit Roland had give him with his own Schofield. His lip was also still bruised and blistered badly. Vic kept listening, wanting to know as much about Roland Payne as he could before they were to inevitably come face to face with him.

The young fugitive then leaned closer, "He murdered a helpless woman and her fuckin' _son_. The boy couldn't have been more than_ five_ years old, if that. And when I woke up, the man who found me told me... That Roland had shot the boy... In his _stomach_."

The lawman didn't even blink, his face was so serious and calm. He didn't know Roland well at all, only that he was a criminal who had killed two of his closest fellow deputies. He was a name to go and kill. But now, with Sawyer there to give more context, it was starting to dawn on the maverick lawman just how dangerous he was.

"That's a goddman painful way to die for anybody, let alone a fuckin' kid." Sawyer said through gritted teeth, "But that's what Roland decided to put that little boy through. He doesn't make it quick... Unless he has to."

Vic and Sawyer's eyes were locked as the outlaw spoke. If the young outlaw had done anything right, it was make Vic want Roland dead almost as much as he did. But alas, it didn't really seem like _anyone_ could want that man dead as much as Sawyer did. Vic could see the look in his eyes. There was real, pure hatred there and almost a _need_ to kill.

"_That_ is who we're dealin' with." Sawyer whispered, "_That_ is why I want that man dead, no matter what the cost."

The deputy had to ask, "Even if the cost is _yourself?_"

It took a long silent minute before Sawyer turned back to Vic with an answer. The outlaw inspected the train, it's other passengers, the view through the window and finally to Ellie, who was still sleeping soundly.

"Maybe."

Upon finishing his tale and speech, Sawyer let out a huge sigh of relief. Like he'd gotten something out that had been nesting for a long, long time. He lay back casually on his seat of the train and kept on breathing heavily, trying to control the feeling in his gut.

Vic eventually did the same. There was no need to speak or do anything else. Instead he felt it was a good idea to let the outlaw settle again and give him some space. If nothing else, the lawman definitely had the upmost respect for his younger friend, who was seemingly one of the most honest men he'd ever met, despite whatever past he held.

For the remainder of the journey, neither Sawyer or Vic said anything. They were both just waiting calmly. Waiting to get to Saint Denis, waiting to get to the bank and waiting to finally get to Roland Payne.


	20. Chapter XIX

** CHAPTER XIX**

**_SAINT DENIS, LEMOYNE, JUNE 9TH 1900_**

Saint Denis boasted the biggest train station platform either of the New Austin natives had ever seen before. It stretched below their feet for what seemed like a mile or two. The building of the station itself was real tall too, Vic noticed. The deputy couldn't fathom why they would need a station so big. It seemed unnecessary and impractical.

Ellie seemed just as fascinated by the station as she was about the train. It was made out of wood, but it was the shiniest wood she'd ever seen. The girl was certain she could see her own reflection in it at times, like it was some sort of brown mirror. She too wondered why it needed to be so large, but didn't mind looking at it and wondering.

If nothing else, Vic was thankful to finally be off of the sweating carriage. The journey to Saint Denis had been an intense one, thanks to the constant wonder and fear about what lay ahead of them at the end. But now that he was finally off the train, Vic could feel the air cool down mercifully and he could finally start formulating a plan of action.

Sawyer grimaced almost as soon as he stepped off of the carriage steps. He saw the people of Saint Denis, all dressed up to the nines, thinking they were things that they weren't. The outlaw felt an immediate sense of familiarity, but he did not relish it one bit. One thing he hadn't missed in particular, was the smell. The Lemoyne city constantly reeked of coal and smoke. It got in his mouth and made him want to spit it out. Turning to his friends, he saw that they were having the same experience too.

"Fuckin' hell." Ellie said, "What's in my damn nose?"

"Smoke from coal fires." Sawyer replied.

Ellie winced at her older friend, "Coal fires? How big are these fuckin' coal fires? They burnin' buildin's here or somethin'?"

"Nah, it's the factories." Sawyer said, laughing, "You've stepped right into the heart of the fuckin' 'Industrial Revolution' as the shit-eating boot-lickers here like to call it."

Vic stood quiet, not finding anything to say yet. He was feeling a little stressed by how many people were around. The maverick deputy had felt uncomfortable with the amount of folks in Valentine and Strawberry, and _they_ were still just small towns in the middle of nowhere. Saint Denis looked like a damn metropolis and he couldn't seem to turn his nose in any direction without almost being walked into by strangers.

Without saying it out loud, Ellie was feeling the same as Vic was. She'd still, even at sixteen, never been to a real big town before that was full to the brim with people. Even Strawberry she'd only seen during the night and early morning, when nobody was around. So stepping into Saint Denis hit the young huntress like a gold bar to the temple. It was hard for her to focus on anything, there was so much happening that she'd never seen before.

"Why does everyone here wear fuckin' suits?" She asked, still wincing in confusion.

Sawyer sighed, having had the same wonder forever, "'Cause they're all arrogant asshole, Ellie. That's why."

Just as the trio were about to make their way from the station platform and into the city itself, a stranger walked straight into them, knocking Ellie almost to the ground and shoving both Sawyer and Vic to the wayside.

"The hell?" Vic said under his breath.

"Hey! What the fuck?!" Ellie shouted as she steadied herself, "Cocksucker!"

The fella who'd shoved the trio turned back briefly with an apologetic look on his face but didn't say a word and soon kept walking fast.

Vic had to grab a hold of Ellie by her worn, yellow shirt to stop her ravaging the stranger. She fought to get free like a rabid cougar in a cage. Soon Vic had to really grasp her hard and turn her around to face him.

"Hey!" Vic said loudly, "Ellie! Cut it out!"

"You fuckin' saw what that asshole did!"

Vic nodded, "Yup, I did... But you need to fuckin' calm yourself... Right now."

Ellie still tried for a second to get loose, but Vic kept glaring at her. Soon enough, she calmed. Sawyer thought for a second that he could even see the small burning fire in her eyes turn to smoke. It was a good job Vic was brave enough to stop her, otherwise she might've ended up getting jailed for murder within minutes of arriving.

"We don't need to draw any fuckin' attention to ourselves just yet, a'ight?" Vic asked, his voice stern.

The girl slowly nodded, agreeing with him. She still seemed angry but Sawyer could see that it wasn't at Vic directly. Ever since getting off the train, Ellie had seemed more agitated than normal. The outlaw could only assume that Saint Denis was having an affect already.

"Just... Fuckin' assholes, ya know?" She then said, to both Vic and Sawyer.

"Yup, I know... But we're here to deal with a bigger asshole than anyone else, Ellie." Sawyer told her, "We're gonna need you to keep your cool."

"_That_ or I'm sendin' you right back on the train, understand?" Vic said, smirking and winking.

Ellie scoffed, "Yeah right, just try it, Vic. You got more chance of this Roland guy turnin' _himself_ in. And that ain't gonna happen is it, Sawyer?"

The young fugitive shook his head slowly, his attention elsewhere, "No it ain't... We _should_ get into town soon enough though. Lord knows when he's gonna hit the bank."

"Good call, kid." Vic said, placing one of his last cigarettes in his mouth, "I guess _you_ can lead the way then."

Before anything else, the group had to get their horses from the far end carriages of the train. Actually getting to that carriage took a lot of effort, given that every other person in the station seemed to be heading in the opposite direction, making it hard to fight through the crowd while sticking together.

"Stay close." Vic told Ellie, "Well, as close as you can."

The carriage holding the horses was easily spotted due to its strong smell of fur, sweat and manure. Sawyer knew that getting around the city on horseback was going to be almost impossible due to the level of activity, so he was busy thinking of ways to hitch them safely before continuing on. Once he saw the stable-hand taking care of the animals, the idea finally came to him.

"Excuse me, friend." Sawyer called out.

"Sir?" The stranger said.

"Is there anywhere you could take our horses and keep 'em cared for safely?" The outlaw asked, "You see, we're all here on important business and don't really wanna be worryin' about any stallions or mares while doin' it, you get my meanin'?"

The stranger looked perplexed at Sawyer, as did Ellie and Vic.

"But we need the horses, kid." Vic said, "They got all the... _Supplies_ on 'em."

Sawyer knew what Vic was referring to, but he'd already thought that over.

"As my friend says, our horses have some essential items on 'em. So if you don't mind, may I take some things from our horses before you lead 'em wherever they need be taken to?"

The scruffy stable-hand just nodded, "That's fine, sir... I can take 'em all to a nearby stable if you want. It's in the factory district, south-west side of town."

Sawyer gleamed, "Well that sounds just the ticket, friend. Appreciate the efforts."

Before words could exchange further, Sawyer bolted past the stable-hand and climbed into the carriage. Outside, Vic and Ellie waited awkwardly with the dirty horse handler. None of them said a word to each other, choosing to instead just wait patiently and quietly. Inside the carriage, they could hear the outlaw rustling and clumping around. At one point, they could hear him petting Neigan affectionately.

Ellie was still angry about the strange fella earlier who'd almost trampled over her. The people of Saint Denis were so rude and irritating, she thought. Everyone seemed in a rush for something that she just couldn't figure out. All the young huntress could think of was how _she herself_ was likely to soon be in a rush to get outer the stinking town fast. It wasn't nice, everything about it seemed wrong somehow.

After a few moments of standing and waiting, their patience slowly dwindling, Vic and Ellie finally watched Sawyer jump out of the carriage again, this time with a stuffed satchel full of supplies and a bandolier now around his torso.

"Much obliged again friend." The outlaw said to the stable-hand, "Look after 'em for us, they deserve it."

After much confusion, the stranger climbed back into the carriage himself, giving Sawyer the open window to hand Vic a few boxes of ammo from his satchel. He gave the lawman two boxes each of revolver bullets and Bolt-Action rounds. He himself took two boxes for his Schofield and emptied a box of shotgun shells onto the ammo belt now wrapped around him.

"That's a little conspicuous ain't it, kid?" The deputy said of the bandolier, while storing his own ammo.

"Not in this town, Deputy, let me tell ya." Sawyer said, "Besides, if Roland's about to rob the bank, this whole fuckin' city's about to become the most conspicuous place in the state."

Vic shrugged his shoulders as the outlaw had made a good point. Plus, the citizens of the Lemoyne capital seemed completely engrossed in other things, so maybe a bandolier wasn't the strangest thing to see.

The lawman then loaded his LeMat revolvers, Bolt-Action rifle and stored what was left in his coat pockets. Ellie was full on rounds for her Volcanic Pistol, but hoped she didn't need to use it and that her bow would be enough. The girl hadn't had great practice with the gun, so it was not the weapon she was about to rely on anytime soon.

"A'ight... Locked and loaded." Vic whispered to his companions, "Lead on, Sawyer."

The young outlaw then led his two friends from the station platform, going underneath the huge, wooden, far-stretching canopy that covered what looked like a hundred benches for passengers to sit on while awaiting their trains. Ellie was still in an uncomfortable awe at how many people seemed to be in Saint Denis. More than she'd ever seen at once before, and they all looked weird.

Vic was puffing away at his latest smoke like he hadn't done before. The cigarettes were usually a tasty vice that the lawman enjoyed indulging, but at that moment, seeing crowds everywhere and not one piece of familiarity, he was using the tobacco as a stress reliever, trying to refocus his mind.

Once out of the train station, Vic and Ellie followed Sawyer to what looked to be a main square of the city. Once there, neither of the New Austin natives could stop turning their heads at everything they saw. The girl had spotted a great big tree, which stood on it's lonesome right in the middle of an otherwise concrete street. It was huge, lush and green, the only sign of the usual world the huntress was used to. The blazing sun probably helped that idea too.

"Jesus fuckin' christ." Ellie said, "What the hell are those?"

Sawyer looked at where his young friend was pointing. It was at one of the city's many trams. Small, train-like vehicles that moved through town on small tracks. The outlaw had been on them many times in his youth. They served as a great way of getting around town fast without having to walk.

"Those are trams, Ellie. People get on 'em if they don't feel like walkin'." He told her.

Ellie's face was falling further all the time, "It's fuckin' bizarre. There's so many people on 'em. How do they all fit?"

Further along the huge, grey street, past a small park area full of grass and a few benches, Sawyer stopped at a tall, looming statue. Around it, in a perfect circle, were tracks for the trams Ellie had seemed so freaked out by. Vic had finished his smoke and stomped it out with his boot. Even the ground below was completely made up of shiny, dark-grey bricks, almost like somebody had polished every single one individually. The deputy almost felt bad about dropping a used smoke on such a pristine piece of land.

Horses didn't seem to be a thing in Saint Denis either, the deputy noticed. Sure, there were many mares and stallions, but they were always attached to carriages. Single horses with single riders didn't seem to exist in the Lemoyne capital. No wonder Sawyer had let the stable-hand take April, Neigan and Friday away.

The outlaw was stood ahead now, totally still and staring up the main street where the tram tracks climbed. It seemed to be the main strip of town, Ellie thought, given it was full to brim of stores, huge shiny buildings and pretty lights were hanging from every light pole and thin, lonely trees.

"What now, kid?" Vic asked with haste.

Sawyer hardly even heard him. The young outlaw was so distracted by the thoughts of Roland. Where was he? the outlaw kept thinking. He could've been one block away, maybe even in a store or theater nearby, planning the robbery. Nether Sawyer, Vic or Ellie could know, and that was playing hard on the outlaws mind. Now that they were finally at their destination, the young fugitive just wanted to end things.

Ellie was standing close to Vic, almost like a frightened animal. She could see where the smokey taste and smell was coming from now. In the distance, far off in town, there was this giant, tall chimney looking thing, she noticed. It stretched far into the sky and was constantly spewing thick, black fog. Ellie couldn't remember any pig or cow droppings stinking quite as bad as Saint Denis did.

"Hey, Sawyer." Vic said, raising his voice, "Where to now?"

Sawyer finally snapped out of it, "Uh... Well the bank's pretty far up there, to the north-east side of the city."

"Well it don't look like any robbery's goin' down just now." Vic said, looking at his surroundings.

"Valid point, but the motherfucker could be anywhere, Vic." Sawyer said, "We just gotta search for him."

Vic nodded quickly, "I know, kid. But I gotta do somethin' else first."

"What the fuck could be more important?" The outlaw asked, his patience slowly waning.

Sawyer and the nervous Ellie then watched as Vic pulled out an envelope from his coat pocket. Within seconds, it jogged the girl's memory.

"David gave me this back in Strawberry." Vic told his friend, "It's for his brother... He works here, in a small bankin' office."

"Can't it wait?"

"Given that we might not make it outer this city in one piece, I'd say no."

Ellie looked sternly at Vic again, "Don't fuckin' talk wet, Vic. We're gonna get back home, right?"

"Of course we are, Ellie... I'm just makin' a point is all. David gave us the train tickets to get here... Least I can do is give this to his brother while I got the chance."

Sawyer and Vic locked eyes for few seconds, letting the busy capital's activities pass them by. Trams moved along, people yelled all the time, Ellie even noticed a gang of young kids running away from the town's lawmen at one point. The place didn't seem to ever stop.

The buildings around them were so big and funny looking, she thought. One of them, on the corner left of the statue, had a circular tower at the top and so many windows going around it, and hanging on the edge of every one of them was a red banner with patterns on them. It looked like some kinda temple, Ellie thought, the stuff her Daddy had told her about before bed time when she was smaller.

"A'ight." Sawyer said, turning around, "The banking office he was talkin' about is that way."

The outlaw pointed to the left side of the crossroads, towards the very same funnels and factories that Ellie had spotted and wretched at the thought of. That seemed to be the more grotty, business end of the city. It didn't seem to have pointless, glittery and flashy buildings all over the place like the main street did.

"Head a few blocks that way and you can't miss it. It's the only bankin' place in the city other than the National Bank." Sawyer told Vic, turning back to him.

"Ain't you comin'?" The deputy then asked.

Sawyer's head shook, "I'm gonna scout around town first, see what I can find on Roland. But we can meet up back here soon enough."

Vic thought about that hard for a moment. He didn't know if splitting up was the best idea yet, especially not in such a toxic and unfamiliar place. But then again, his young friend did know the town very well, having grown up there, so Vic knew he could trust the outlaws judgment. If he was confident then so was the Tumbleweed lawman.

"A'ight, let's do that then." Vic finally said with confidence.

Ellie then stepped in front of the deputy, "I'll go with Sawyer then. He might need the extra pair of eyes."

"You sure about that, Ellie?" The lawman asked, "You look a little... Nerve wrecked."

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me." Ellie replied, "Just go drop off that fuckin' letter and meet us back here, yeah?"

Vic grinned and nodded, "A'ight... Both of you watch yourselves, you hearin' me?"

The young outlaw nodded once in respect, "Loud and clear, Deputy. Same to you."

"And you stay close to him, a'ight?" Vic told Ellie, pointing at Sawyer.

Ellie sarcastically saluted her deputy friend once again and waving at him jokingly.

Vic chuckled and waved his two younger friends off before turning around and heading down the opposite end of the street. He felt more comfortable heading towards the more rundown looking side of Saint Denis, as it made him feel closer to his own homeland of New Austin. Everything else in the Lemoyne capital seemed like a completely different world to him, too flashy and pretentious, he thought.

Ellie then followed Sawyer closely, looking back every few seconds to see Vic slowly disappear into the crowds of people. At first she felt fine and comfortable being with Sawyer again, but the more she looked around, seeing strangers and odd looking folks everywhere, she began to feel more pressured. Like she was walking underwater.

"I fuckin' hate this place, Sawyer." She said to her friend.

Sawyer nodded, "So do I. Hopefully we can leave as quick as we arrived, huh?"

"How'd you manage to stick here for so many fuckin' years?"

"Was damn hard, Ellie. I'll say that. Told you the place was vile."

She scoffed, "That was understatin' it a little, weren't it?"

"Yeah, maybe." Sawyer chuckled, "But one of better things is that every fucker here looks the same. All bullshit business-like. Roland Payne ain't gonna be hard to spot in a place like this."

"What's he look like again?" Ellie then asked, having only heard how dangerous the man was, not much about his appearance.

"He's big. Like... Tall. Huge I'd say even." Sawyer said, constantly scanning the tall buildings and streets around them, "Bald with a fuckin' huge beard that goes down his neck... Teeth are rotten. Believe me, Ellie, you'd know him if you saw the motherfucker."

"Sounds like I would." She said, trying to control her breathing, "Where we headin'?"

Sawyer seemed to be leading her to a dark passageway between two solid oak buildings, probably more business offices.

"Down the backstreets for a minute." The outlaw then replied, "Roland had a habit of takin' refuge in the emptier streets if he needed to."

Once the duo came around a corner, they entered a bigger than average alleyway, outside of a barber's shop. It was quieter than everywhere else, since there wasn't as many people powering through like bulls, which Ellie was thankful for. It meant she could now rest a little, so she soon leaned against a wall and took a breather in the cool shade.

Seeing Ellie look so tired and anxious made Sawyer feel almost guilty for bringing her to Saint Denis. It was clearly not agreeing with the youngster, who was so used to the empty plains and chaparrals out in New Austin. The outlaw then slowly approached her and gently laid one hand on her shoulder.

"You a'ight?" He asked.

"I'll be fine." Ellie replied, out of breath, "I just... Need to focus."

"Ellie, you can stay here if you like." Sawyer said quietly, "This ain't your fight."

The huntress soon spun around angrily and frowned at the fugitive, "Don't you fuckin' _dare_ do that, Sawyer!"

"Do what?"

Ellie pointed hard, planting her finger into his chest multiple times, "Try and send me away... You ain't doin' this without me... Or without Vic for that matter, you gettin' me?"

"Ellie... I just."

"Just NOTHIN'!" She yelled out, almost on the verge of tears, "_You_ might have some kinda fuckin' death wish, a'ight? But I _ain't_ lettin' you get yourself killed for that piece of shit! He ain't worth _your_ life!"

Sawyer's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly. He was almost thankful that hardly anyone else was stood nearby in the alley for once so that nobody could witness the younger girl giving him a real good telling.

"Okay." The outlaw said quietly, patting her her shoulder, "A'ight... I get ya."

"Good!" The young girl shouted again, "Now just shut up and... Let me catch my fuckin' breath for a minute."

The duo stood for another few silent minutes in the alley, the sounds of the ever moving crowd of citizens drowning out most other noises. Sawyer was slowly getting ever more impatient and eager to get back outer the alley and hopefully spot Roland, despite Ellie's words. No matter what anyone said, he couldn't put it to rest. Not yet.

Soon enough, the girl caught her breath, relaxed herself and seemed good. She and Sawyer slowly exited the alley and got back onto a main street. One that had a gigantic church on its corner, Ellie noticed. It was so gorgeous and majestic. Definitely better looking than any place of worship she'd seen back home, where they were all broken down and inhabited by emaciated cats. Everything was so much nicer looking in the Lemoyne capital, everything except the people, she thought.

The outlaw kept on walking through the crowds of Saint Denis, at one point wondering why the town was busier than usual. Maybe it was due to having been away from the Lemoyne capital for so long, he'd forgotten how hectic the place could be. All he wanted was to spot Roland in one of the crowds, raise his Schofield and shoot him dead. Yet he and Ellie kept on walking, through the city's shopping streets and eventually into one of it's overcrowded market districts.

"Hold up a sec." Said the outlaw, stopping suddenly.

It had happened, Sawyer had seen somebody he recognised. It wasn't Roland, that was for sure. But it _was_ an O'Driscoll. He was there, inside the market alley, amongst the crowd. He was the typical O'Driscoll thug, all scruffy, unshaven and wearing a pale-green coat. Sawyer knew that he was there in town with Roland, and would likely know where that piece of filth was. The outlaw soon, without thinking, bolted to get to him before he might've disappeared into the crowd.

Ellie stood still, her head down and eyes closed, controlling her breathing again. She didn't like the idea that Sawyer was about to take them both into the market. She was stunned to realise, once she looked up again, that he was gone. The outlaw had vanished, probably into that very same crowded alley, she thought.

The young huntress suddenly felt her heart beat hard, almost like it was in her mouth. With Sawyer gone, she couldn't tell where she even was. In front of her was the market, full to brim with people all shouting and yelling. Some were even sleeping in the corners where the shade was. She looked to her left and right, seeing only more packed streets, with people looking down at her like she was some kinda of animal.

"Fuck..." She whispered to herself, "Fuck... Fuck."

The girl didn't see where Sawyer had gone and couldn't see any evidence of him anywhere around her. He'd truly vanished. If only she hadn't panicked and looked away, she thought.

Before long, she wanted to punch her stupid self for losing him. What worried her most was whether or not he needed her help, or if he'd even realised she was missing yet.

Above her were the towering buildings of the city, who's purpose seemed only to keep the sun off of the busy people's backs. Ellie didn't know where to go. If she went through the market, she might get even more lost. She felt sick. Sick at the thought of heading through such a rammed alleyway full of trading stalls, shop-keepers and adamant buyers. The place was sickening.

"What do you do, El?" She asked herself, "What do you fuckin' do?"

Before she could even give herself an answer, something else happened. Everyone heard it. Out of nowhere, across town somewhere, an explosion went off. Real loud, echoing off of all the graceful buildings, stores and hotels. Ellie soon turned, along with many other people, to where the sound had emanated. In the sky, briefly, she saw falling debris. Pieces of metal, wood and brick. Some of it even landed in the same street she was stood in.

Everyone around her and in other streets of the city began panicking and screaming, because soon after the explosion, they could all hear gunfire too. Lot's of gunfire, and people yelling out. Some sort of firefight was going down.

All the scared folks round Ellie began running around in a blind panic. Suddenly, and strangely, she felt more focused than ever before. The huntress was certain that it must've been the robbery at the bank finally happening, but she didn't want to go there without finding Vic or Sawyer first.

Ellie soon equipped her bow and grasped an arrow from her boot. The people of Saint Denis were petrified and running for cover in random stores and other buildings. The huntress liked that, as it meant not only were those people safe, but it also emptied the overcrowded streets a little, calming her down and helping refocus her mind. Soon enough, despite the distant gunfire and smoke rising above the tall buildings, Ellie began to run in the opposite direction, determined to find either the young outlaw or the maverick deputy.

Minutes went by and Ellie ran down the slowly emptying streets of the capital, while on her way seeing packs of fully armed Saint Denis police officers heading to the scene of the explosion and the gunfire. It must've been real serious, the girl thought as she entered a narrow alleyway off the street and out of the sun.

She found herself having to step over a dirty homeless fella as she made her way through the alley and past some tall plant pots and vines. He was awake and yelling out in a dialect she couldn't understand. Was probably confused about what was going on across town.

Once Ellie had frantically made her way through the alley, she crossed a busy street full of more frightened citizens, some even looking scared of Ellie herself, given she was carrying a bow and arrow.

"Fuckin' hell." Ellie whispered to herself, astonished at how quickly the town had changed from being busy to all out panic.

Stepping back off the street and into another rat infested alleyway, Ellie could see at the far end that there was an empty street ahead. She just hoped it was maybe the street where she'd find Vic or Sawyer, waiting for her. It seemed a darker street than others, with the sun clearly not illuminating it very well. As she ran down towards it, she kept noticing that not a soul walked by the alley's exit. Clearly it was an area clear of people. Just what she needed.

Finally, at long last, after stepping through the dirty puddles and past some empty barrels, Ellie was back out of the back alley's and onto the empty strip of buildings. The huntress was relieved to finally be able to take a breather alone. She quickly leaned back on the brick-wall behind her, some boarded up old store, to control her breathing once again.

"You're okay, El." She assured herself, "It's all good."

Looking up again after controlling her lungs, Ellie saw a lone carriage of people pull up next to the biggest and bulkiest building on the end of the street. Sadly, she couldn't see _anyone_ else, including the deputy or the outlaw she'd lost.

It took the New Austin girl just a few moments to work it out. She'd ran away from the explosion and gunfire, what she assumed was Roland and the goons finally robbing the bank. Yet now, in the strange street, she could see it. The big, glorious looking building, nicer than any others on the same roadway, had a sign on it reading '_LEMOYNE NATIONAL BANK'_.

"Oh shit..." Ellie whispered in disbelief.

The chaos happening on the other side of town was _not_ the bank robbery at all, she realised. The main bank of the city was right _there_, directly in front of her.

Her mind went haywire, trying to work out what the hell was happening back there where the explosion had went off. She wanted to know if Vic was okay, if Sawyer was alright, were they looking for her? Or were they busy fighting that Roland guy. But that was when she finally noticed.

There were four guys on the carriage pulling up alongside the bank. One of them got off, shotgun in hand and put a bandana around his face. Soon, the other three did it too. Loaded their shotguns and masked their faces. Ellie knew right away what they were about to do.

As the strange, armed bandits got off the carriage, they all took sacks with them, probably for money. Ellie stood in shock once she saw the man in the middle. Three of them were all the same height and size, just like all the other jackasses that her, Vic and Sawyer had taken out. But the guy at the front, the leader of the pack, was different.

Ellie soon recalled everything Sawyer had told her earlier in the busy streets before she lost him. She remembered the man he was described. Big, tall, huge, bald, hulking and intimidating.

And at that point, she realised that she was staring at Roland Payne.


End file.
